V 


LIVES 


OF  THE 


CATHOLIC  HEROES 


AND 


HEROINES  OF  AMERICA. 


BY 


JOHN  O’KANE  MURRAY,  B.S.,  M.A.,  M.D., 


Author  of  the  “Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United 
States,”  “ Prose  and  Poetry  of  Ireland,”  “ Little  Liyes  of  the  Great 
Sajnts,”  “Lessons  in  English  Literature,”  and  “Catholic 
Education  in  the  United  States.” 


“ Lives  of  great  men  all  remind  ns 
We  can  make  our  lives  sublime.” 

*•  There  is  no  sort  of  literature  which  has  afforded  me  more  pleasure  than  biogra- 
phies and  memoirs.” — Bishop  Bruti. 

Homo  OMtn  ; humani  nihil  m me  alionum  puto. 


BOSTON  COLLEGE  LIBRAKT 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 

NEW  YORK : 

F.  J.  KENEDY, 

PUBLISHER  TO  THE  HOLY  APOSTOLIC  SEE, 

EXCELSIOR  CATHOLIC  PUBLISHING  HOUSE, 

5 Barclay  Street, 

1896. 


N 


■>f  . 


COPYRIGHT. 

■ Y 

1AM  ES  SHEEHT, 

1879. 

7 0 


<"  ' 


12691 


i 


TO 

REVEREND  F.  WM.GOCKELN,  S.  J. 

President  of  St.  John’s  College, 

FORDHAM,  NEW  YORK, 

THIS  VOLUME  IS  DEDICATED 


WITH  DEEP  RESPECT  AND  EVERY  KIND  WISH, 


BY  HIS  GRATEFUL  FRIEND  AND  PUPIL, 


John  O’ Kane  Murbat 


I 


PREFACE. 


It  was  on  Friday,  October  12th,  1492,  that  Christopher  Columbus 
first  stepped  on  the  shores  of  the  New  World.  He  was  the  pioneer 
of  a long  line  of  Catholic  Heroes  and  Heroines,  some  of  whom  I 
have  attempted  to  sketch  in  the  present  volume.  It  would,  indeed, 
be  easy  to  add  to  my  list.  But  the  names  I give  are  representative. 
I have  aimed  to  be  just  in  selecting.  I have  chiefly  sought  those 
whose  lives  exhibit  great  virtue,  heroism,  and  lofty  achievements. 

Nor  are  the  names  chosen  in  any  spirit  of  narrowness  either  as 
to  nationality  or  profession.  Of  the  twenty-four  famous  personages 
given,  four  were  Americans,  ten  were  French,  three  were  Spanish, 
three  were  Irish,  one  was  a Belgian,  one  a Russian,  one  an  Italian, 
and  one  a native  of  England. 

Two  were  Archbishops,  two  Bishops,  five  Missionaries,  one  a 
Parish  Priest,  one  an  Admiral,  two  Generals,  one  a Commodore, 
four  Religious  Ladies,  four  Explorers,  one  a Lady  who  belonged  to 
no  Religious  Society,  and  one  a Lawyer  and  Statesman — thus 
making  in  all  ten  ecclesiastics,  four  religious,  and  ten  lay  persons. 

I hope  the  work,  in  spite  of  many  short-comings,  will  be  found 
to  combine  variety,  interest,  and  instruction.  The  Catholic  dis- 
coverers, explorers,  and  missionaries  of  America  were  men  unsur* 
passed  in  all  that  constitutes  heroic  greatness.  The  perusal  of  their 
lives  cannot  fail  to  elevate  the  mind,  and  give  a healthy  stimulus  to 
deeds  of  virtue. 

“Where’er  a noble  deed  is  wrought, 

Where’er  is  spoken  a noble  thought. 

Our  hearts  in  glad  surprise 
To  higher  levels  rise.” 

In  all  my  statements,  I have  labored  to  be  accurate.  I have  made 
it  a point  to  consult  the  best  authorities  available,  and  of  these  I 
have  not  hesitated  to  make  a free  use.  My  chief  sources  of  infor* 
mation  are  indicated  in  the  foot-notes  at  the  beginning  of  each  Life, 

I take  great  pleasure  in  acknowledging  my  special  indebtedness 

V 


VI 


PREFACE. 


to  the  works  of  Francis  ParKinan.  His  writings  abound  in  exquisite 
scenes  and  touching  narratives , presented  in  a style  at  once  surpass- 
ingly graphtc,  picturesque,  and  beautiful.  This,  together  with  the 
fact  that  Mr.  Parkman  does  not  belong  to  our  Faith,  makes  his 
testimony  doubly  valuable,  as  an  eloquent  and  impartial  authority. 

For  kind  courtesies  rendered  during  the  preparation  of  this 
volume,  I return  my  warm  thanks  to  Mr.  Francis  Parkman,  Boston; 
Rev.  Father  Walther  H.  Hill,  S.  J. , of  the  St.  Louis  University;  Messrs. 
J.  B.  Lippincott  & Co.,  Philadelphia;  Messrs,  (i.  P.  Putnam's  Sons, 
New  York;  Mr.  Lawrence  Kehoe , New  York;  Mr.  James  Sheehy, 
New  York;  Rev.  Maurice  Hickey,  Brooklyn,  L.  I.;  Rev.  Mother 
St.  George,  of  the  Ursuline  Convent,  Quebec;  Rev.  Sister  St. 
Josephine,  Villa  Maria,  Montreal;  Rev.  Mother  Leahy  of  the 
Hotel  Dieu,  Kingston,  Canada;  and  Peter  Jerome  Curren,  A.  M., 
M.  D.,  Flatbush,  L.  I. 

With  these  brief  remarks , I venture  to  Introduce  the  “Lives 
of  the  Catholic  Heroes  and  Heroines  of  America,"  to  the  reading 
public.  John  o’Kane  Murray. 

Brooklyn,  L.  I.,  July  4th,  1879. 


CONTENTS 


turn 

Dedication 

Preface .... 

CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 

CHAPTER  I. 

FROM  INFANCY  TO  MANHOOD. 

The  parents  and  birth  of  Columbus — School-days — Early  life  and  adreti* 
tures — Appearance,  manners  and  character — Marriage.  . . .11 

chapter  II. 

THE  STRUGGLES  OF  GENIUS. 

Columbus  and  Alphonso  V.  — The  growth  of  a great  idea — Basis  of 
Columbus’  theory — Dr.  Toscanelli  and  Columbus — His  difBcultiea— 
Visits  his  native-city  and  his  Father — Portugal  treats  him  meanly — Death 
of  his  wife,  Dona  Felippa — Directs  his  steps  to  Spain — Father  Perez  and 
Doctor  Hernandez — The  Convent  of  La  Rabida — Columbus  at  the 
Spanish  Court — Father  de  Talavara — Second  marriage  of  Columbus — Hie 
letter  to  King  Ferdinand — Interview  with  the  Spanish  Sovereigns — The 
Junta  of  Salamanca — His  Dominican  Friends — The  Moorish  War^- 
Ferdinand  aod  Isabella — He  never  despairs  of  success — T?  e fall  of 
Granada— He  is  about  to  leave  Spain — The  turn  of  Fortune — Isabella  be- 
comes his  patron — The  terms  of  agreement — Final  preparations  . SI 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PATH  THAT  LED  TO  A NEW  WORLD. 

Obstacles  in  the  way  of  preparation — Great  services  of  Father  Perez— 

The  Pinzons — The  three  vessels — Religious  preparations — Scenes  at  the 
departure — " The  Sea  ! the  sea  I the  open  sea  I” — Terror  produced  by 
a volcano — Fears,  dangers,  and  adventures  of  the  voyage — A New 
World  found — Ceremony  of  taking  possession — The  natives — Cuba  and 
Hayti — Romantic  incidents — Shipwreck — The  erection  of  the  fortress  of 

La  Navidad — Adieu  to  America Cf 

vii 


Of  CO 


viii 


OOIfTENTS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOMEWAKD  BOUND. 

fASB 

A truant — The  first  bloodshed — Storms  on  the  wild  waves — Religious 
vows — The  cast — Land — An  upstart  Governor — “ Home,  sweet  home!  ” 
—Genius  honored — Preparations  for  a second  voyage . ...  84 

" xlAPTER  V. 


THIS  TRIADS,  ADVENTURES,  AND  HEROISM  IN  THE  SECOND  VOYAGB. 

Kew  officials  and  the  final  preparations — A singular  mistake — A powerful 
enemy  of  Columbus — On  the  ocean  again — Adventure  in  Guadaloupe— 

At  Hispaniola  once  more — A sad  tale  of  La  Navidad — The  progress  of  af- 
fairs in  Hispaniola — The  City  of  Isabella — The  Royal  Plain — Revolution 
of  lazy  insolence — Difficulties  with  Father  Boil — Exploration  and  Adven- 
tures— Sickness  of  Columbus — Character  of  Don  Bartholomew-Villainy 
of  Margarite  Ojeda  and  Caonabo — Battle  of  200  against  100,000 — 
CMumny — Diaz  and  his  dusky  bride — The  Admiral  sails  for  Spain.  . 98 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A TEAR  IN  SPAIN. 

Uolumbus  as  a monk — Activity  of  his  enemies — Other  difficulties — James 
Ferrer — The  Admiral  draws  up  his  will — Delays,  and  preparations  for 
another  voyage. ...  180 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  THIRD  AND  FOURTH  VOYAGES  TO  AMERICA. 

Columbus  punishing  insolence — Crossing  the  stormy  ocean  in  the  name  of 
the  Holy  Trinity — Touches  the  mainland  of  America — At  Hispaniola 
again — Quelling  troubles — The  din  of  calumny — Bobadilla  and  his  mis- 
sion— Columbus  sent  home  in  chains — Great  Schemes — A fourth  voyage 
planned — Going  to  the  relief  of  a fort — Columbus  insulted  again  at  His- 
paniola— Awful  fate  of  a fieet  containing  his  enemy — Search  for  an 
Imaginary  strait — Sailing  along  the  coast  of  Central  America — Battle  with 
a water  spout — A vision — Aground  on  Jamaica — Mendez  and  his  adven- 
tures— Mutiny  of  Porras — The  threatened  fatnine — An  historical  eclipse 
of  the  moon — A singular  visit — A fierce  conflict — Relief  comes — 
Columbus  reaches  Spain.  ....  ...  139 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  SETTING  SUN  OP  A GLORIOUS  LIFE. 

Pbverty  and  old  age  assail  Columbus — Death  of  Isabella  the  Catholic — ^Ex- 
tracts from  the  Admiral’s  letter — The  death-bed  of  a hero — Confirming 
his  will— The  last  moments  of  America’s  Discoverer — His  many  tombs — 

His  character — Miracles.  168 


CONTENTS. 


ALONZO  DE  OJ^DA. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THB  YOUNG  CAVALIER,  rAOl 

Youth  of  Ojeda — Spain  in  the  fifteenth  century— A reckless  feat — Des- 
cription of  our  hero— A famous  painting — Adventure  in  Guadaloupe 
—Exploring  Hispaniola— Siege  of  Fort  St.  Thomas— Taking  Caonaho 
prisoner— Battle  of  the  Royal  Plain— Ojeda  returns  to  Spain.  . 179 

CHAPTER  H. 

ACROSS  THE  ATLANTIC  AND  BACK. 

Ojfida  as  a navigator — .\merigo  Vespucci — Expedition  to  South  America 
— A battle  with  the  Cannibals — Explores  the  coast  of  South  America 
— Makes  trouble  at  Hispaniola — Returns  to  Spain 180 

CHAPTER  HI. 

STIRRING  SCENES  AND  ADVENTURES 

Another  expedition  to  South  America — Trying  to  found  a colony  and 
what  came  of  it — Ojeda  appointed  Governor  of  New  Andalusia — Two 
fieets — John  de  la  Cosa — An  aspiring  lawyer — The  two  rival  Governors — 
Again  on  the  coast  of  South  America — Battles  and  poisoned  arrows— 
Death  of  the  brave  de  la  Cosa — Miraculous  escape  of  OjMa.  . . 194 

CHAPTER  IV. 

CLOUDS  GATHER  IN  THE  SKY  OP  LIPE, 

The  Colony  of  San  Sebastian — Adventures — Ojeda  wounded — Voyage 
and  shipwreck — A fearful  march  through  bog  and  forest — The  picture  - 
of  the  Holy  Virgin — Ojeda’s  oratory — Anecdote — The  end  of  a stirring 

life 203 


VASCO  ntjNez  de  balboa. 

CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY  LIPE  AND  ADVENTURES. 

Birth — Voyage  to  America — Balboa  as  a farmer — As  an  adventurer— 
Lawyer  Enciso — An  unexpected  meeting — A disaster — Balboa  rises  to 
prominence — Nicuesa  and  his  fate — Balboa  at  the  head  of  affairs — He 
visits  a great  cacique — Hears  of  the  Pacific  Ocean — Conversions — 
Preparations — A famous  dog  called  Leoncico.  ....  t09 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  DISCOVERY  OP  THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN. 

Final  preparations— The  march  begins — Difficulties — A Battle — The  first 
view  of  the  Pacific  Ocean — Address  and  Thanksgiving — A Cross  in  the 
_ wilderness — Takes  possession  of  the  Pacific — The  marcA  back.  . 233 


CONTENTS. 


f 

CHAPTER  III, 

BLASTED  HOPES  AND  THE  HEROIC  END. 

Accounts  of  the  discovery  sent  to  Spain — A new  governor — The  situation 
at  Darien — Sickness — Bad  treatment  of  the  Indians — Balboa  raises  his 
voice— Is  appointed  Lieutenant-Governor — Preparations  to  go  to 
Peru— Carrying  ships  across  the  mountains— New  difficulties  and 
dangers — The  first  European  vessels  on  the  Pacific — Pour  ships  complet* 
ed  and  all  ready— Balboa  suddenly  arrested— His  trial  and  unjust 
condemnation — He  meets  death  like  a true  hero 2S8 

HERNANDO  CORTES. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  YOUTH  OF  THE  CONQUEROR  OF  MEXICO, 

Birth  and  Parentage  of  Cortes — Early  years — Sails  for  the  New  World- 
First  year  in  America — Is  appointed  to  command  an  expedition  to 
Mexico — Velasquez  and  Cortes — Difficulties  and  final  preparations-Ap- 
Jtearance  and  manners  of  Cort& — Departure  of  the  fleet.  . . .237 

CHAPTER  II. 

BEGINNING  OP  THE  ROAD  THAT  LED  TO  AN  UNKNOWN  EMPIRE. 

Redeems  a holy  and  useful  captive — A rude  reception — The  first  battle  with 
the  Indians — The  second — Planting  the  Faith — Palm  Sunday  in  a wild 
land — Away  for  Mexico — New  visitors  and  methods  of  interpretations 
— Dona  Marina — Montezuma,  the  Mexican  Emperor — An  interview  and 
its  results— Indian  painters — Astonishment  of  the  Mexicans.  . . 24® 

CHAPTER  III. 

CORTES  OUTWITS  MONTEZUMA. 

The  Spanish  General  and  the  Mexican  officials — Great  presents  to  Cortes — 

The  wishes  of  Montezuma — Demand  of  Cortes — His  firmness — His  hopes.  253 

CHAPTER  IV. 

' GLANCES  AT  THE  MEXICAN  EMPIRE  AND  THE  SPANISH  CAMP. 

Extent  of  the  Mexican  Empire — A warlike  people — The  powerful  and 
haughty  Montezuma — His  timidity  in  a great  crisis — A strange  tradition 
— Hopes  and  fears  of  the  Spaniards — Great  changes — The  little  town  of 
the  True  Cross — A strange  election — A rebellion  in  the  camp — New  light 
in  regard  to  the  Mexican  Empire — New  subjects  for  Spain — Destruc- 
tion of  the  fleet — The  work  of  conversion  . ...  256 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  MEMORABLE  MARCH  TO  MEXICO. 

The  little  army  moves — Travelling  on  a rough  road — Adventures  on  the 
confines  of  Tlascala — A battle — Another  battle,  in  which  there  was  no 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


PAOK 

alternative  but  death  or  victory — Peace —Tlascala  becomes  subject  to 
Spain — At  Cholula,  and  what  happened  there — The  first  sight  of  the 
city  of  Mexico — Grand  reception  of  the  Spaniards  by  Montezuma  . 266 

CHAPTER  VI, 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  CONQUEST  BRIEFLY  TOLD. 

Views  and  interviews  —Visit  to  the  Great  Temple— Cort4s  in  a dangerous 
and  delicate  position — A bold  step,  how  it  was  executed  — Other  pro- 
jects— Montevuma  becomes  a vassal  of  the  Spanish  sovereigns — He 
invites  Cortes  to  return  home — A new  enemy,  and  how  Cortes  disposed 
of  him — Unwelcome  intelligence. — The  revolt  against  the  Spaniards — 
War  in  the  city  of  Mexico — Desperate  fighting  and  fearful  scenes — 
Death  of  Montezuma — The  “sorrowful  night”  and  retreat  of  the  Span- 
iards— On  the  road  to  Tlascala — A great  battle — Amongst  friends  again 
— Cortes  resolves  to  take  Mexico—Glances  at  the  historic  siege — Fall  of 
the  great  Capital — Thanksgiving — A new  empire  for  Sdain  274 

CHAPTER  VII. 

AFTER  CAREER  OF  THE  CONQUEROR  OF  MEXICO. 

Is  appointed  Governor  of  Mexico — The  new  capital — The  conversion  of 
the  Indians — Arrival  of  twelve  Franciscan  Missionaries — Activity  of 
Cort6s — Desperate  journey  to  Honduras — Calumny — Cort4s  goes  to 
Spain — His  reception — Honors— Return  to  Mexico — New  difficulties 
and  enterprises — Discovesy  of  California — To  Spain  once  more — The 
call  of  death — His  pious  and — Character  of  Cortes.  . . • 300 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  CHILDHOOD  OF  AMERICA’S  FIRST  SAINT. 

Brith  of  St.  Rose — How  she  got  the  name  of  Rose — Takes  St.  Catharine 
ofSienna  as  her  model — Her  vow  at  five  years  of  age—  Her  heroic  obedi- 
ence — Her  spirit  of  penance  — Rose’s  devotion  to  her  father  and 
mother.  ..........  311 

CHAPTER  II. 

GLANCES  AT  VIRTUE  IN  ACTION. 

Matrimonial  annoyances — Rose  becomes  a member  of  the  Third  Order  of 
St.  Dominic — Her  humility — Her  charity  and  great  self-control — Her 
wonderful  purity  - Her  fasts — How  she  chastized  herself — Her  singular 
bed — The  honor  paid  to  her  even  by  irrational  creatures.  . . 315 

CHAPTER  III. 

ALONG  THE  STRAIGHT  AND  NARROW  WAY. 

Rose’s  spirit  of  prayer — Her  deep  insight  into  the  mysteries  of  religions — A 


CONTENTS. 


xii 

PASS 

tormenter  at  home— Persecution— Sickness — The  Saint’s  charity — Her 
confidence  in  God — She  learns  of  the  day  of  her  death  by  revelation — 

Her  last  sufferings — The  end . .......  324 

CHAPTER  IV. 

MIRACLES  AND  CANONIZATION. 

Examination  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  persons — A visit  to  the  Saint’f 
tomb— What  a physician  saw — The  visions  of  a pious  lady — Sinners 
converted — Two  persons  raised  to  life — An  incurable  arm  cured — A 
poor  cripple  healed  of  his  infirmities — A child  cured  of  a leprosy — Can- 
onization of  St.  Bose.  387 

SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 

CHAPTER  I. 

GLANCES  AT  CHAMPLAIN’s  EARLY  CAREER. 

Birth  and  parents — Early  years — Henry  IV.  and  Champlain — ^Visit  to  the 
' West  Indies — Discovery  of  Canada — The  Commander  de  Chastes— 
Champlain’s  first  visit  to  Canada — De  Monts  and  his  schemes — Acadia 
— Visit  to  the  Bay  of  Fundy — Champlain’s  labors — Father  Aubry  lost  in 
the  woods — St.  Croix — The  Coast  of  Maine — Winter  again — The  first 
garden  in  North  America — Fight  with  Massachusetts  Indians — The 
“Ordre  de  Bon-Temps.”  831 

CHAPTER  11. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  PIONEERS  IN  CANADA. 

Champlain’s  love  of  adventure — He  founds  the  city  of  Quebec — How  he 
strangled  a conspiracy — Spending  the  winter  at  Quebec — A woful 
scene  of  destitution — The  Hurons  and  Algonquins — The  Iroquois — 
Discovery  of  Lake  Champlain — A battle  with  the  Iroquois — Homeward 
bound 341 

CHAPTER  III. 

HOW  A PATHWAY  TO  CHINA  WAS  NOT  FOUND. 

Champlain’s  Visit  to  France — Returns  to  Canada — The  attack  on  an  Iro- 
quois fortress — Meets  two  hundred  Indians — Death  of  Henry  IV. — 
Marriage  of  Champlain — His  unceasing  toil  and  activity — The  impostor 
Du  Vignon  and  the  voyage  up  the  Ottawa — Coming  down  the  stream — 
Algonquin  fear  of  the  Iroquois — At  the  Chaudi^re  Falls — In 
France.  847 


CHAPTER  IV. 

RELIGION  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

Champlain  as  a^  missionary — The  first  priests  in  Canada — Mass  at  Quebec 


CONTENTS. 


xiii 


— Beginning  of  the  Canadian  missions — Father  Dolbeau — Father  Le 
Caron — Voyage  to  the  Huron  country — Champlain  again  on  the  ‘war- 
path — The  Huron  nation — The  first  Mass  in  Upper  Canada — The  march 
for  the  land  of  the  Iroquois — A Picture  of  early  warfare — The  return  to 
Canada — Wintering  among  the  savages — State  of  affairs  at  Quebec — 
Other  important  events — Madame  de  Champlain  comes  to  Quebec.  . 860 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  DEATH  OF  CHAMPLAIN. 

Growth  of  the  colony — Religious  discord — Quebec  taken  by  the  English — 

The  feeling  in  France — The  lofty  energy  of  Champlain — Canada  restored 
to  France — Champlain  becomes  Governor — His  influence  over  the  Sav- 
ages— Onward  progress  of  the  colony — A college  at  Quebec — Glance  at 
Champlain’s  daily  life — His  death,  on  Christmas  Day,  1635 — His  Char- 
acter . 872 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  S.J. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  YOUTH  OF  A GREAT  MISSIONARY. 

Jogues’  birth  and  family — His  mother — Education — Becomes  a Jesuit — 
Ordination— Seeks  a foreign  mission — Is  sent  to  Canada — Letter  to  his 
his  mother — Another  letter — Is  sent  to  the  Huron  mission — Description 
of  the  journey — His  missionary  toils — Diflaculties  of  the  missionaries— 

His  journey  to  the  Tobacco  Nation 379 

CHAPTER  II. 

A CAPTIVE  AMONG  THE  MOHAWKS. 

The  Cross  planted  in  Michigan— The  Huron  mission— Father  Jogues  on  his 
way  to  Quebec— Is  taken  on  the  return  voyage  by  the  Mohawks- 
Sufferings  and  adventures  on  the  way  from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the 
land  of  the  Mohawks — Lake  George — Revolting  tortures — The  death  of 
Goupil — The  martyr-missionary’s  life  among  the  savages — His  escape 
and  arrival  in  New  Amsterdam  . 888 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  GLORIOUS  END. 

New  York  City  two  centuries  and  a half  ago — Two  Catholics — A pious 
Irishman — Father  Jogues  is  wrecked  on  the  English  coast — Lands  in 
Prance  on  Christmas  Day — Pathetic  incidents — At  the  College  of  Rennes 
— The  nation  honors  him  as  a saint  and  martyr — Returns  to.  Canada — 
Again  among  the  Mohawks — Returns  to  Quebec — Comes  back  as  an 
apostle — The  glorious  death  of  Father  Jogues  . . • • 899’ 


CONTENTS. 


xiy 

FATHER  JOHN  DE  BRl^BEUF,  S.J. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THIRTY- SIX  EVENTFUL  TEARS. 

The  Pioneer  Jesuits  of  North  America — John  de  Breheuf — His  birth — His 
family — Enters  the  Society  of  Jesus — His  humility — Goes  to  Canada — 
Hardships — Is  sent  on  the  Huron  Mission — Among  the  red  men — All 
alone—  His  recall  to  Quebec — Returns  to  France  ....  400 

CHAPTER  H. 

AMONG  THE  HURONS. 

A glimpse — A council  and  what  came  of  it — The  eventful  journey  to  the 
Huron  country — Indian  geography — The  house  for  the  Jesuits,  and  its 
wondrous  furniture — Anecdotes — Labors  of  the  missionaries — The  good 
seed  falling  on  rocks — The  thousand-and  one  obstacles — Heroism — De 
Brebeuf’s  visit  to  the  savages  of  the  Neutral  Nation  . . . . 410 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  BLESSING  OF  SUCCESS  AND  THE  HEROIC  END. 

The  great  harvest  of  souls — Piety  of  the  Indians— Father  de  Be  Brebeufs 
appearance  some  time  before  his  death— His  virtues— The  Iroquois  inva- 
sion—Assault  on  the  village  of  St.  Louis— A noble  Indian  chief— De 
Biebeuf  taken  prisoner— Appalling  tortures— The  sublime  end— His 
greatness  ^ 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.J, 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  EARLY  LIFE  OF  A YOUNG  PRIEST  IN  THE  SEVENTEENTH  CENTURY. 

Date  of  White’s  birth— The  England  of  three  centuries  ago— Persecution 
and  robbery— Little  known  of  White’s  early  years— His  home  education 
— “Popery”  a low  word  and  a nickname — Toung  Whitest  Douay 
Returns  home  a priest — England  as  a priest-hunter  Father  White  s 
banishment — Enters  the  Society  of  Jesus — Labors  as  a professor  in 
various  Universities — His  great  learning  . ■ • • . ' <11 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  VOYAGE  TO  MARYLAND. 

The  new  Catholic  Colony — The  “Ark”  and  the  “Dove  sail  from  the 
Isle  of  Wight— The  “Relatio  Itineris  in  Marylandiam,”  note— “ The 
sea,  the  sea,  the  open  sea” — Fear  of  the  Turks — A violent  storm  The 
“ Dove”  thought  to  have  perished — A dreadful  tempest  and  Father 
White’s  prayer— Sunshine  on  the  sea— A providential  incident— The 
Flying  Fish— The  Isle  of  Barbadoes— Deliverance  from  a new  danger— 
Cabbage  180  feet  high— The  soap  tree— The  pine-apple— Matalina  an6 


CONTENTS. 


PAM 

Its  wild  men — The  "Carbunca” — Montserrat  and  its  "Exiles  of  Erin” 

— Courtesy  at  St.  Christopher’s — A Sulphurous  mountain — The  locust 
tree — Nearing  the  end 436 

CHAPTER  III, 

THE  rROWNING  LABORS  AITD  ADVENTURES  OP  A GLORIOUS  CARBMl. 

Reception  of  the  Catholic  Pilgrims  in  Virginia — Chesapeake  Bay — The 
Potomac — Armed  Natives — Taking  possession  of  Maryland — A cross  in 
the  wilderness — First  interview  with  an  Indian  Chief — Father  Altham 
preaches — St.  Mary’s — Appearance,  manners,  habits,  weapons,  and 
religion  of  the  Maryland  Indians — Soil  and  animals  of  the  country — 
Mission  labors — Difficulties — Conversions — Religion  reigns  among  the 
Colonists — Buying  off  Catholic  Slaves — Father  White  at  Kittama- 
quindi — What  a red  king  was — The  Apostle  of  Maryland  converts 
Chilomacon — Ceremony  of  the  chief’s  baptism — Illness  of  Father 
White — A Famine — A singular  incident — Punishment  of  a backslider— 

A New  Englander  and  his  bigotry — Indian  tribes  converted  along  the 
Potomac — An  Indian  war — How  the  Jesuits  made  a missionary 
journey — A miracle — The  clouds  of  misfortune  gather — End  of  Father 
White’s  labors — Is  sent  to  England — His  last  years — Death  and  charac- 
ter   4a 


MOTHER  MARY  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 
CHAPTER  I. 

A Tli.VK'AND-SMILE  CHAPTER  OF  LIFE. 

Mary’s  parents  and  education — Marriage — Her  married  life  not  happy — 
Death  of  her  husband — Prophetic  words — Becomes  an  Ursuline  nun — 

Her  business  talents — A ncysterious  dream — Madame  de  la  Peltrie — The 
singular  recognition— Embarking  for  Canada— On  the  ocean— Up  the 
St.  Lawrence— Reception  at  Quebec 478 

CHAPTER  II. 

MOTHER  MART  OP  THE  INCARNATION  AND  HER  PUPILS. 

Learning  the  Indian  languages— The  little  convent  and  academy— Small- 
pox— Convent  life — Difficulties — The  Indian  girl  as  a convent  pupil — 
Some  examples — Teresa,  the  Huron  girl — Her  letter  to  Mother  Mary  on 
parting  from  her  convent  home — Some  short  and  sharp  reflections . , 4S8 

CHAPTER  HI. 

A HOLY  HEROINE  TO  THE  LAST  GASP. 

A new  convent  erected — Pupils — Letters  of  Mother  Mary — What  a pan  of 
coals  did — The  fire  fiend — Mother  Mary  surrounded  by  flames — Her  es- 
cape— Another  convent  raised  up — The  educational  programme  of  the 
time — Mother  Mary  and  her  novices — The  illustrious  woman’s  accom- 
plishments— Her  death Am 


xvi 


CONTENTS. 


MISS  JANE  MANCB. 

CHAPTER  L 

EAKLY  TEAKS  OF  OUB  HEROINE. 

Birth  and  family — Her  singular  childhood — Her  charming  piety — A re- 
markable vocation — Her  confessor’s  opposition — The  Duchess  de 
Bullion — De  la  Dauversi^re — Finally  determines  to  go  to  Montreal.  496 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  TOWN  OP  MARY. 

Montreal — Dauversi^re — The  Abbe  Olier — A vision — The  singular  interview 
between  Olier  and  Dauversi^re — A great  design  assumes  shape — Th« 
memorable  ceremony  at  Notre  Dame  Cathedral — Glance  at  the  plan — 
Maisonneuve — Miss  Mance  sails  in  the  expedition  for  Canada — At  Que- 
bec— Up  the  St.  Lawrence — Arrival  at  the  site  of  Montreal — The  land- 
ing— The  first  altar — Mass — Father  Vimont’s  address — The  birth-night 

of  Montreal 49S 

CHAPTER  HI. 

THE  PIONEER  HEROINE  OF  MONTREAL. 

The  first  hospital  at  Montreal — Ville  Marie’s  Guard — Miss  Mance’s  seven- 
teen years’  work — Olier’s  remark — Plenty  of  hospital  work — The  fall 
on  the  ice — Loss  of  her  arm — Voyage  to  France  in  company  with  Mar- 
garite  Bourgeois — The  miraculous  cure — Madame  de  Bullion — Depar- 
ture of  three  Hospital  Nuns  for  Canada — The  severe  voyage — At  Mon- 
treal— Sufferings  of  the  nuns — The  Iroquois — A pen-picture — A beauti- 
ful death 504 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.J. 

CHAPTER  I. 

A mother’s  TEACHING  AND  ITS  RESULTS. 

Birth— Parents— Family— Early  education— Enters  the  Society  of  Jesus— 
Lands  in  Canada— The  voyage  to  Lake  Superior— The  First  Church  at 
Sault  Ste.  Marie— Hears  of  the  Mississippi  for  the  first  time— Various 
events — The  arrival  of  Jolliet  ...  ....  511 

CHAPTER  II. 

HOW  THE  MISSISSIPPI  WAS  DISCOVERED. 

The  final  preparations— First  part  of  the  pathway— Joy  at  entering  the 
Mississippi— The  eventful  voyage  down  the  mighty  stream— Halting  at 
the  Arkansas — ^The  return  ....••••  510 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE  SUBLIME  END  OP  A BEAUTIFUL  LIFE. 

Father  Marquette  battling  with  disease— A new  mission— The  Jouraey 


CONTENTS. 


xvii 

FASl 

along  Lake  Michigan — At  the  site  of  Chicago — Among  the  Kaskaskias 
— Return  of  the  disease — On  the  way  to  Mackinaw — The  last  days  of 
the  great  missionary — The  beautiful  end — His  fame  and  character  . 52€ 

ROBERT  CAVELIER  DE  LA  SALLE, 

CHAPTER  I. 

YOUTHFUL  GENIUS  AND  VAST  DESIGNS. 

Birth,  family,  and  education  of  La  Salle — Goes  to  Canada — Settles  near 
Montreal — How  little  was  known  of  North  America  then — Vast  schemes 
of  La  Salle— Discovers  the  Ohio— At  Fort  Frontenac— Developing 
thoughts — Privileges  granted  by  the  King  of  France — A Glimpse  at 
Fort  Frontenac 53ff 

CHAPTER  II. 

TEAVELLING  THE  THOENY  EOAD  OF  DISCOVEEY,  PEEIL,  ADVENTUEE. 

Great  preparations — Paddling  up  the  St.  Lawrence — The  first  written  de- 
scription of  Niagara — Ship- building — Launch  of  the  “ Griflin” — The 
first  voyage  up  the  Lakes — Fort  Crevecceur — A dreadful  journey  of  over 
1,200  miles — Nothing  but  disaster — Returning  to  Illinois — A ghastly 
scene — More  forest  roving,  and  pushing  through  the  snows  of  Indiana 
—At  Fort  Miami — A council — Final  preparations  for  the  discovery  of 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  •‘>41 

CHAPTER  HI. 

THE  MOUTH  OP  THE  MISSISSIPPI  DISCOVEEED. 

’ *‘e  expedition  down  the  Father  of  Waters — “ the  sea  ! The  sea  ! the  open 
sea  !” — Taking  formal  possession  of  the  Mississippi  Valley  for  France 
— Attempts  at  colonization — Difficulties — Wanderings — The  last  tragic 
journey  towards  the  north — Traitors  in  the  camp — Father  Douay’s  ac- 
count of  La  Salle’s  assassination — His  character  as  depicted  by  several 
distinguished  writers . . . 554 

VENERABLE  MARGARITE  BOURGEOIS. 
CHAPTER  I. 

BEIGHT  YOUNG  YEAES. 

Her  birth,  and  parents  A wise,  promising  little  girl — Death  of  her 
mother  Is  placed  over  her  father’s  household — The  vision  at  the 
church  of  Notre  Dame — A change  of  life  . . . . . 563 

CHAPTER  H. 

A NEW  AND  HEKOIC  CAEEEE. 

Father  Jandret — Lofty  virtue — Purity  of  mind  and  heart — The  vow— 
Margarite  wishes  to  be  a Nun — Is  refused  admittance — A new  Order — 

A loss  that  is  a gain — Her  father’s  death — Protects  Innocence — A dream 


CONTENTS. 


xviii 

FACE 

— Gov.  De  Maisonneuve — Difficulties  come  and  vanish — The  heroine 
goes  to  Canada 666 

CHAPTER  III. 

CANADIAN  LIFE  TWO  CENTURIES  AGO. 

Sister  Bourgeois  arrives  in  Canada — A howling  wilderness — Estreme  cli- 
mate— The  St.  Lawrence — “Lo  ! the  poor  Indian” — How  the  red  man 
lived,  moved,  and  had  his  being — Canadian  towns  of  the  seventeenth 
century — Montreal  a dreary  forest — Mass  in  a tent — Sister  Bourgeois 
teaches  the  little  Indian  girls — Makes  herself  all  to  all,  that  she  might 
gain  all  to  Christ — A new  idea — The  voyage  to  France — Its  success — 

The  ship  “ St.  Andr^”— Again  in  Ville-Marie 576 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  FIRST  RELIGIOUS  ORDER  FOUNDED  IN  AMERICA. 

An  historic  stable — Margarite  Bourgeois  founds  the  Sisters  of  the  Congre- 
gation de  Notre  Dame — Her  second  trip  to  Europe — Founds  a Chapel 
in  honor  of  the  Most  Blessed  Virgin — Labors  and  growth  of  her  commu- 
nity— Its  two  chief  objects — Dress  of  the  Sisters — Qualities  which  a Sis- 
ter should  possess — They  receive  their  rule  from  Bishop  St.  Valier — 

The  convent  destroyed — Four  years  of  mental  agony — Peace  of 
soul 581 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SUNSET  OF  A BEAUTIFUL  LIFE. 

The  virtues  of  Mother  Bourgeois — Her  Charity — Gives  away  her  bed — In- 
stitutes missions  for  women — Schools  for  country  children — Walks  180 
miles  in  winter — Her  humility — Poverty  of  spirit — Miraculous  favors 
— The  last  sublime  act  of  life— Her  death — her  character.  . . 587 

LOUIS  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM. 

CHAPTER  I. 

A FRENCH  PHILOSOPHER  ON  FRANCE  IN  AMERICA. 

The  family,  youth,  education,  and  early  career  of  Montcalm— The  dread- 
ful charge  at  the  pass  of  Exilles— A glance  at  the  Map— State  of  affairs 
in  Canada  at  the  time  of  Montcalm’s  arrival 595 

CHAPTER  II. 

MONTCALM  IN  AMERICA. 

A.t  Quebec — The  chief  Strongholds — The  Indians  as  allies  Montcalm 
greatly  loved  by  the  dusky  chiefs  and  warriors — At  Fort  Frontenac  The 
storming  of  Oswego— The  capture  of  Fort  William  Henry— Famine— 

The  battle  of  Ticonderoga— Great  foresight  of  Montcalm— The  battle  of 
the  Plains  of  Abraham  at  Quebec— Wolfe’s  victory— Montcalm  mortally 
wounded— His  last  hours— His  death— His  personal  appearance  . 60* 


CONTENTS. 


XIX 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 

CHAPTER  I. 

BATTLING  FOR  FREEDOM  ON  THE  OCEAN. 

PA«X 

Barry’s  birth-place  in  Ireland — His  love  of  the  ocean — Becomes  a sailor. — 
Meets  Washington — The  Revolution — Barry’s  bold,  enterprising  spirit — 
Equipping  a fleet — The  “ Stars  and  Stripes”  hoisted — The  first  Capture 
— Fighting  on  the  Delaware — Lord  Howe  tries  to  tribe  Barry — Barry’s 
noble  answer — Fighting  with  little  boats  and  gaining  a brilliant  vic- 
tory   616 

CHAPTER  H. 

WARRING  STILL  ON  THE  OCEAN. 

Barry  receives  command  of  the  “ Raleigh”— A contest  with  two  British 
ships — Takes  command  of  the  frigate  “Alliance” — Another  sharp  con- 
test— The  Commodore  badly  wounded — Encounter  with  a British  squad- 
ron— Barry’s  memorable  reply,  when  hailed  by  the  squadron.  , 621 

CHAPTER  III. 

FAITHFUL  TO  THE  END, 

Difficulties  in  creating  our  first  navy — Achievements  of  the  navy — Barry 
continues  at  the  head  of  the  service— The  frigate  “ United  States”  chas- 
tising the  French — Barry’s  devotion  to  his  cou  ntry — His  death — Appear- 
ance and  character  629 

MOST  REVEREND  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 
CHAPTER  I. 

FIRST  YEARS  OF  OUR  FIRST  ARCHBISHOP. 

Birth — Parents — Ancestors — Education  and  the  Penal  Laws — Bohemia 
Manor — Young  Carroll  sent  to  Europe — Enters  the  Society  of  Jesus — 

Is  ordained — Suppression  of  the  Society — Sketch  in  a note — Father 
Carroll  goes  to  England .635 

CHAPTER  II. 

DURING  THE  REVOLUTION. 

England  and  her  colonies — Father  Carroll  sails  for  America — “ Home, 
sweet  home” — Changes — Resides  with  his  mother  at  Rock  Creek — Con- 
gress invites  Father  Carroll  to  go  to  Canada — The  journey — Result  of 
the  mission — Franklin  and  Father  Carroll — Homeward — Praying  for 
the  cause  of  freedom — Controversy  with  Wharton  ....  644 

CHAPTER  HI. 

FATHER  CARROLL  AND  OUR  EARLY  CHURCH. 

itate  of  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  before  the  Revolution— What  the  clergy 
of  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania  did — Father  Carroll  appointed  Prefect 


XX 


CONTENTS. 


Apostolic— Dr.  Franklin— Washington  at  Mass— Dr.  Carroll’s  labors 
—Appointed  first  Bishop  of  Baltinaore— Statistics  of  Catholicity.  . 647 

CHAPTER  IV. 

PLANTING  THE  CROSS. 

The  Church  of  the  United  States  and  its  early  troubles— Bishop  Carroll  di- 
recting the  pioneers  of  the  Faith— Georgetown  College  founded— The 
first  Synod  of  Baltimore— Visiting  Boston— Priests  from  France— “Ex- 
iles of  Erin”— Baltimore  becomes  a metropolitan  see— Four  new  Bish- 
ops— The  death  of  Archbishop  Carroll 063 

MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 

CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY  YEARS  OF  OUR  HEROINE. 

Birth — Parents — Education — Religion — Personal  appearance — Marriage — 
Spirit  of  piety— As  a mother— Death  of  Dr.  Bayley  . . . .669 

CHAPTER  H. 

THE  VOYAGE  TO  ITALY. 

Mr.  Seton’s  health  declines — A sea  voyage  proposed — The  voyage — At  Leg- 
horn— Pen-pictures — “ Poor  William” — Death  of  Mr.  Seton — How  she 
was  most  kindly  treated  by  the  Messrs.  Filicchi — At  mass — Scraps  from 
letters 

CHAPTER  HI. 

SEEKING  THE  TRUTH. 

Mrs.  Seton  returns  to  America — Mr.  A.  Filicchi — Rev.  J.  H.  Hobart — 
Mental  Agony — Father  de  Cheverus — Light  at  last — Mrs.  Seton  enters 
the  Church  of  Ages — Is  baptized  in  old  St.  Peter’s — Her  first  confession 
and  communion. 679 

CHAPTER  IV.  ' 

ON  THE  WAY  OF  CHRISTIAN  PERFECTION. 

Peace — Father  Cheverus — Filicchi — Mrs.  Seton  opens  a boarding-house — 

Is  confirmed  by  Bishop  Carroll — Another  Convert — Persecutions — Rev. 

W.  V.  Dubourg  and  his  plans — Mrs.  Seton  goes  to  Baltimore— Liberal- 
ity of  the  Filicchi  brothers— Mr.  Cooper — The  “Sisters  of  St.  Joseph” 

— At  Emmittsburg — St  Joseph’s  Valley 690 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  NEW  RELIGIOUS  SOCIETY. 

Rules  adopted— Mother  Seton’s  daughter  Anna — Her  many  virtues- Her 
death — A Mother’s  tears— The  growing  community — Mother  Seton  as  a 
teacher — Her  eldest  son— Mr.  P.  Filicchi’s  death 701 


CONTENTS. 


XXI 


CHAPTER  VI. 

CROSS  CROWN.  _ 

Death  of  Alother  Seton’s  youngest  daughter — Father  Brute — " Luther  is 
Luther  ” — Mother  Seton’s  health  becomes  feeble — Her  patience — Her 
last  moments — Her  holy  death — Her  character — The  results  of  her  toiL  71fl 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 
CHAPTER  I. 

A GRBAT  man’s  EARLY  YEARS. 

The  Carroll  family — Birth  and  Education  of  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton 
— His  active  opposition  to  English  tyranny — Marriage — As  a Popular 
advocate — His  keen  foresight  in  regard  to  the  revolution — Repeal  of  the 
laws  againt  Catholics. 729 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  VISIT  TO  CANADA. 

Congress  appoints  three  commissioners  to  visit  Canada — Instructions — The 
commissioners  leave  New  York  on  their  way  to  Canada — Extracts  from 
Carroll’s  “Journal” — Up  the  Hudson— At  Albany — Visiting  the  Falls 
on  the  Mohawk — Moore’s  “ Lines” — At  Montreal — Examining  the  con- 
dition of  affairs — On  the  way  home — Failure  of  the  mission.  . . 739 

CHAPTER  III. 

GLANCES  AT  AN  ILLUSTRIOUS  CAREER. 

Patriotic  labors  in  Maryland — Signing  the  immortal  Declaration — Glimpses 
of  Mr.  Carroll’s  public  life— His  character  as  a public  man— As  a 
Catholic — “The  year  of  Jubilee” — Receiving  the  united  homage  of  the 
country — His  death — A picture  of  the  closing  scene — His  favorite  books 
— His  opinion  of  religion  . . . • 7C 

RIGHT  REVEREND  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTfi. 
CHAPTER  I. 

A WISE  YOUTH  IN  WILD  TIMES. 

Birth  and  family  Death  of  Mr.  Brute — A good  mother — Recollections  of 
a pious  Confessor — The  first  prayer-book — First  Communion — Young 
Brute  as  a student — His  wide  range  of  studies — The  study  of  medicine — 
Graduates  with  the  highest  honors — Enters  the  seminary — Is  raised  to 
the  priesthood — Becomes  Professor — Goes  to  America.  . . 740 

CHAPTER  II. 

A GREAT  TEACHER  IN  THE  NEW  WORLD. 

Father  Brute  at  Baltimore — At  Emmittsburg — Note  on  Mt.  St.  Mary's 


vvii  CONTENTS 

' PA6I 

College — Trying  to  leant  English — His  zeal  and  labors — Mother  Seton 
— A short  trip  to  France — His  labors  and  examnle  in  the  seminary  at 
the  mountain — John  Hughes  and  Father  Brute — Letters.  . . . 768 

CHAPTER  III. 

TOILING  IN  THE  WESTERN  WILDERNESS. 

Documents  from  Rome — A retreat — Is  consecrated  Bishop  of  Vincennes — 
Reception  in  his  new  See — Everything  to  create — Glance  at  his  labors 
and  virtues — His  death  and  character.  ....  769 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 
CHAPTER  I. 

A prince’s  youth. 

Birth  and  Parents — Education— Mother  and  Son — Young  Gallitzin  becomes 
a Catholic — A pen-picture — Demetrius  prepares  to  travel  in  America — 
Incidents  before  departing — On  the  bright,  blue  sea 765 

CHAPTER  H. 

THE  YOUNG  PRINCE-PRIEST. 

First  days  in  America — New  and  higher  thoughts — In  the  seminary — Or- 
dained  to  the  Priesthood— Father  Gallitzin  is  sent  on  a singular  mission 
to  Virginia — Strange  events — Adam  Livingston  and  his  troubles — What 
followed — A mysterious  voice — Captain  McGuire — Gallitzin  founds  a 
Catholic  colony . . 770 

CHAPTER  HI. 

an  apostle  at  work. 

State  of  Father  Galitzin’s  colony-The  pastor’s  toils-Loretto-The  Prince 
and  his  sister— Laboring  late  and  early  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord— A 
priest  of  order  and  discipline-As  a preaeher-“  Every  one  kneels  h^e” 
-Father  Gallitzin  and  his  rebuke  to  a Protestant  lady  in  church-Her 
conversion  after wards-Many  conversions-Father  Galitizin  as  a 
writer— His  hospitality— A forest  scene— Death  of  the  great  missionary 
-Anecdotes 

RIGHT  REVEREND  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  SCHOOL-BOY  BECOMES  A BISHOP. 

Early  years—"  The  little  Papist”— Leaves  law  for  theology— A patriot  priest 

Is  appointed  to  the  parish  cf  Bandon — His  difficulties — Appointment 

to  the  see  of  Charleston— Items  from  the  Bishop’s  diary  . . .788 


CONTENTS. 


xxiii 


CHAPTER  II. 

AN  IRISH  APOSTLE  IN  AMERICA. 

State  of  the  new  diocese— An  apostolic  toiler — The  Bishop  “ barefooted” 

Dr.  England’s  visit  to  Savannah — At  Augusta — Visits  Locust  Grove 
— Mrs.  Thomson — His  first  open-air  sermon — At  Warrington — Columbia 
— A course  of  lectures  at  Charleston — Anew  Catechism — The  “Book 
Society” — A suggestive  quotation  in  relation  to  Wilmington.  . . 787 

CHAPTER  III. 

GLANCES  AN  AN  HEROIC  LIFE. 

Dr.  England’s  great  Fame  and  worth — His  love  for  the  United  States — The 
founder  of  the  Catholic  press  in  this  Republic — How  he  travelled — The 
power  of  Father  O’Neill’s  flute — Preaching  on  a stump  by  the  way- 
side — A pen  picture — How  the  Great  Bishop  punished  a conceited,  ill- 
bred  preacher 791 

CHAPTER  IV. 

LAST  YEARS  OF  “ THE  NOBLEST  ROMAN  OF  THEM  ALL.” 

Bishop  England  and  his  classical  school — Bigotry — His  efforts  against 
duelling — Preaching  in  the  hall  of  the  House  of  Representatives — 

His  extensive  influence — His  solicitude  for  all — His  boundless  zeal — 

Dr.  England  and  the  minister — “ Boys,  the  Bishop’s  stripped  to  his 
shirt!” — His  care  of  the  negroes — His  heroism  during  the  plague — His 
last  days — Scenes  at  his  death-bed — Glances  at  his  character.  . . 793 

MOST  REVEREND  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 
CHAPTER  I. 

A YOUNG  CATHOLIC  HERO. 

Birth — Parents— Education — Kneeling  behind  a hay-rick — Emigrates  to 
the  United  States — The  future  Archbishop  toiling  as  a day-laborer— 

His  college  career— Is  ordained— His  labors  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord 
— His  patriotism — The  Hughes  and  Breckenridge  controversy — An 
anecdote  about  the  appointment  to  the  see  of  Cincinnati.  . . . 807 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  YOUNG  BISHOP  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Dr.  Hughes  becomes  Bishop  of  New  York — Scene  at  his  consecration-^ 
Stormy  times — Lay-trusteeism — Bishop  Hughes  sails  for  Europe — Es- 
tablishment of  St.  John’s  College,  at  Fordham — Sketch  of  the  college 
(note) — The  public  school  system — Battle  of  Bishop  Hughes — His  great 
influence  over  his  flock 818 

CHAPTER  III. 

BATTLING  WITH  KNOWNOTHINGISM. 

Friends  in  Philadelphia — Sympathy  in  New  York — The  Catholics — Dr. 


XXIV 


CONTENTS. 


PASS 

Hughes  and  the  Mayor — The  Bishop’s  memorable  letter  to  Mayor 
Harper — Immense  debt  of  the  churches — Consecration  of  Dr.McCloskey 
Division  of  the  diocese — Catholic  chaplains  in  the  army — The  sisters  of 
Charity — Preaching  before  Congress — Progress  of  Catholic  Education 
— Patriotism 821 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  FIRST  ARCHBISHOP  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Mew  York  raised  to  the  rank  of  a metropolitan^see — The  Immaculate  Con- 
ception— Failing  health — St.  Patrick’s  Cathedral — The  Archbishop’s 
energ}' — The  Archbishop  and  Pius  IX. — The  civil  war — His  mission  to 
Europe — Some  of  his  last  acts — The  mournful  end — His  greatness 
summed  up 880 

FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  S.J. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY, 

Birth  and  education — Goes  to  America  and  joins  the  Society  of  Jesus — 
Helps  to  build  a university — Among  the  Indians — The  Flathead  mission 
founded — Back  to  St.  Louis — The  difficulties  of  the  Indian  missionary 
— A system  of  missions  planned — How  Father  De  Smet  raised  money 
to  help  on  the  work  of  God 836 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  GREAT  BLACK-GOWN  AS  CHAPLAIN  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES  ARMY 
SENT  AGAINST  THE  MORMONS. 

Our  Government  recognizing  Father  De  Smet’s  great  influence  over  the 
Indians — Letter  of  De  Smet — The  Mormons — Appointed  chaplain  in 
United  States  Army — Pen  pictures — The  buffalo — Scenes  of  death — A 
caravan  on  the  plains — Submission  of  the  Mormons 843 

CHAPTER  HI. 

NEW  SIGHTS  AND  SCENES. 

At  the  Isthmus  of  Panama— San  Francisco— For  Vancouver— The  great 
blackgown  among  the  Indians — Renewing  a treaty  of  peace — Forest 
scenes — Father  Point’s  crosses — Listening  to  bears  and  wolves  at  night.  856 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  SUNSET  OF  LIFE. 

The  Catholic  Faith  and  the  Indian — The  Skalzi  tribe — Their  virtues— Their 
country — The  tobacco  plain — The  Flatbow  river — Agriculture — Hon- 
esty— Anecdote  of  an  old  chief — A young  warrior  and  his  bride — A 
little  Indian  church — The  missionary  and  the  Indians — Old  Chief 
Michael — Honors  to  Father  De  Smet  on  his  last  visit  to  Europe — A sad 
accident — Death  of  Father  De  Smet — The  magnitude  of  his  work — " Ad 
majorem  Dei  gloriam.”  ...  869 


THE  WORLD’S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


The  Republic  of  the  United  States  and  all  the 

NATIONS  OF  THE  EARTH  HONOR  THE  MEMORY  OF 

Christopher  Columbds  on  American  Soil.  America 

MUST  AND  SHALL  BE  CaTHOLIC, 

When  under  the  providence  of  God  it  fell  to  the  lot  of 
Christopher  Columbus  to  discover  America,  results  mightier 
than  human  imagination  could  conceive  were  hidden  in  the 
womb  of  a future  greater  tlian  mortal  mind  could  prophesy. 
With  the  Cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  emblazoned  on  his 
banner,  and  the  name  of  Mary  adorning  his  enterprise  the  in- 
trepid Catholic  discoverer  presented  to  Christianity  and  civil- 
ization this  vast  continent  ; and  greatest  of  all  the  conse- 
quences of  his  immortal  act  was  the  establishment  in  God’s 
own  season  of  the  Great  Republic — the  United  States  of 
America.  Four  hundred  years  after  the  Genoese  navigator 
had  reached  the  virgin  soil  of  America  it  was  reserved  for 
the  United  States  to  pay  the  grandest  of  all  possible  tributes 
to  his  imperishable  memory. 

International  expositions  in  which  the  nations  of  the 
earth  reveal  to  one  another  their  treasures  of  mental  activities 
and  material  development  are  essentially  of  modern  origin. 
Within  half  a century  they  have  had  their  birth.  But  their 
effects  on  civilization  have  been  of  gigantic  growth,  and  they 
are  destined  to  bear  to  future  ages  blessings  of  priceless  value. 
In  the  race  toward  the  topmost  goal  of  civilized  effort  it  was 
fitting  that  the  United  States  should  sometime  enter  as  be- 
came the  extent  of  our  wonderful  progress.  Hence  it  was 
that  when  it  came  for  us  to  celebrate  the  centennial  of  our 


2 


THE  WORLD'S  COL  UMBIAN  EKPOSITION. 


existence  as  a peerless  sovereign  among  the  sovereignties  of 
human  government,  we  invited  the  nations  to  share  our  re- 
joicing in  the  great  international  exposition  of  1876. 

Philadelphia — city  of  memories  dear  and  tender  and 
touching  to  every  patriotic  heart — city  of  reminiscences,  of 
grand  struggles  and  mighty  endeavors  in  the  cause  of 
human  freedom  —was  then  chosen  as  a suitable  place  in 
which  we  might  commemorate  the  glories  of  1776,  while  mani- 
festing to  all  races  and  peoples  that  the  Republic  which 
hailed  no  less  than  a Washington  as  its  Father  was  indeed 
'‘proud,  prosperous  and  invincible.” 

The  Philadelphia  exposition  fairly  rivalled  those  of  Lon- 
don, Paris  and  Vienna.  The  United  States  was  then  formally 
introduced  to  the  older  civilizations  as  a country  worthy  of 
their  highest  esteem.  Our  limitless  resources  were  borne  to 
their  minds  as  a wondrous  realization  of  which  the  most  op- 
timistic dreams  were  but  phantomic  shadows, and  thereupon 
it  began  to  dawn  on  the  intelligences  of  the  century  that  the 
approaching  quadri-centennial  of  the  New  World’s  discovery 
should  be  celebrated  on  American  soil  in  a manner  befitting 
the  greatness  of  our  country  and  in  some  measure  commen 
surate  with  the  deep  debt  of  gratitude  that  the  whole  world 
owed  to  the  memory  of  Columbus. 

In  1882  public  opinion  underwent  a general  and  spon- 
taneous feeling  in  favor  of  commemorating  the  discovery  of 
the  Western  Hemisphere  by  an  International  Exposition. 
The  question  was  agitated  in  a way  to  attract  the  pride  of 
the  country  and  the  practical  sense  of  our  people.  That 
such  an  exposition  should  be  held  was  conceded  by  all. 
Meanwhile  the  question  as  to  where  it  should  be  held  gradu- 
ally narrowed  until  it  lay  between  New  York,  Washington, 
Chicago  and  St.  Louis  as  to  which  of  these  great  centres 
should  win  the  coveted  prize.  The  press  of  these  cities  val- 
iantly fought  in  favor  of  their  respective  claims  and  public- 
spirited  citizens  of  all  shades  of  politics  entered  the  contest 
with  pen  and  speech  and  purse.  Much  was  to  be  said  in 
favor  of  each  one  of  the  claimants.  New  York  was  the  im- 
perial city  of  the  Union,  the  metropolis  of  the  country  and 


THE  WORLD'S  COL  UMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


3 


its  chief  commercial  centre.  Washington  was  the  capital, 
the  seat  of  our  government.  St.  Louis  was  so  situated  that 
it  was  the  centre  of  a teeming  population  greater  for  a radius 
of  five  hundred  miles,  than  could  be  found  within  a like 
circle  by  any  other  city,  and  was  therefore  more  accessible 
to  the  greatest  number  of  our  people.  Chicago  however  ac- 
centuated her  pretensions  by  showing  that  she  was  in  very 
deed  the  great  American  city — the  phenomenon  of  American 
growth;  gigantic  in  proportions;  rich,  progressive,  strong  ; 
but  half  a century  old  and  yet  springing  from  the  prairie 
like  a goddess  with  at  least  1,250,000  inhabitants  to  worship 
at  her  shrine.  Chicago  held  that  she  was  the  grand  wonder 
of  American  possibilities  and  progress,  and  should  therefore 
be  selected  to  bear  aloft  the  banner  of  American  glory  be- 
fore the  world. 

Chicago  prevailed  ! In  December  1889,  Congress  assem- 
bled and  from  the  first  the  balloting  in  the  House  of  Rep- 
resentatives resulted  in  favor  of  the  Prairie  City.  In  March, 
1890,  Senator  Daniels,  of  Virginia,  introduced  a bill  provid- 
ing that  the  World’s  Columbian  Exposition  should  be  held 
in  Chicago  and  furthermore  that  a great  naval  parade  should 
take  place  in  the  harbor  of  New  York.  On  the  25th  day  of 
April  in  the  same  year.  President  Harrison  signed  the  bill 
and  thereupon  the  power  and  prestige  of  the  United  States 
were  added  to  the  enterprise  of  Chicago  in  launching  the 
project  before  the  admiring  gaze  of  an  appreciative  world. 
Little  did  he  think  when  seeking  the  shelter  of  the  Francis- 
can monastery  of  La  Rabida  close  to  the  small  seaport  town 
of  Palos  in  Andalusia,  and  later  still  when  setting  forth  on 
his  wondrous  quest  for  new  lands  that  the  day  would  come 
when  his  name — the  name  of  COLUMBUS — would  ring  from 
ocean  to  ocean  and  be  hailed  by  men  of  speech  and  blood 
other  than  his  as  that  of  one  whom  all  should  delight  to 
honor.  Little  did  he  think  that  the  day  would  come  when 
Southern  cavalier  and  Northern  puritan  would  sound  his 
praises  and  proclaim  his  memory  as  one  of  ever-increasing 
benediction.  Little  did  he  dream  that  mighty  colonies  would 
yet  people  the  primeval  forests  and  nations  arise  to  glorify 


4 


TEE  WORLD'S  COL  UMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


civilization,  witli  arts  and  sciences,  attending  their  growth 
like  ministering  spirits  from  above.  Little  did  he  imagine 
that  a day  would  come  when  a proud  republic— greatest  of 
all  in  ancient  or  modern  times — would  invite  the  world  to  join 
in  its  acclaim  of  his  greatness.  But  so  it  was  written  by  the 
inscrutable  hand  of  Him  who  governs  all  things  and  when 
the  President  of  the  United  States  affixed  his  signature  to  the 
Act  which  gave  the  sanction  of  our  republic’s  illimitable  maj- 
esty to  the  Columbian  Exposition  civilization  received  an 
impetus  of  vaster  import  than  any  other  human  agency  has 
been  privileged  to  afford  in  modern  times. 

Chicago  rose  grandly  to  the  task  it  had  assumed  and  re- 
sponded nobly  to  the  trust  reposed  in  her  by  the  nation. 
Three  miles  in  extent, in  Jackson  Park,  fronting  Lake  Mich- 
igan was  the  site  selected  for  the  marvel  of  our  century. 
Marching  onward  with  resistless  energy  and  overcoming 
obstacles  of  almost  insuxjerable  difficulty,  the  promoters  of 
the  Exposition  seemed  gifted  with  supernatural  prevision 
and  strength.  With  ingenuity  of  conception  and  fixity  of 
purpose  they  reared  on  high,  above  marsh  and  waste  and 
dune,  a city  of  ivory-like  palaces  within  which  the  treasures 
of  the  world  were  destined  to  receive  suitable  and  worthy 
sanctuary.  Orient  and  Occident  heard  of  this  wonderful 
effort  of  man’s  creative  genius  and  hastened  to  lay  their 
most  precious  gifts  in  the  custody  of  our  republic’s  trusty 
representatives.  "Vast  in  conception  the  Exposition  build- 
ings were  yet  vaster  in  execution.  The  great  hall  set  apart 
for  Manufactures  and  Liberal  Arts  alone  consumed  twice  as 
much  iron  and  steel  as  were  used  in  the  construction  of  the 
Brooklyn  Bridge.  The  pyramids  of  Cheops  might  bestowed 
away  under  its  great  roof  of  glass.  It  occupied  nine  times 
as  much  ground  as  the  Capitol  at  Washington  and  was  in 
all  respects  equal  to  the  most  prodigal  of  demands. 

In  like  appropriateness  of  space  and  with  every  concom- 
itant of  necessity  and  beauty  the  other  buildings  were 
erected.  The  pride  of  our  republic  was  fully  awakened. 
Stale  after  State  wheeled  into  line  to  make  of  this  Exposition 
the  grandest  that  mortal  agency  could  achieve.  As  the  glori 


IHE  WORLD'S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


5 


ous  form  of  Columbia  arose  in  all  the  majestic  proportions  of 
her  inimitable  splendor  and  illimitable  greatness,  extending 
her  gracious  invitation  to  the  world,  the  nations  rushed  to  ac- 
cept the  exhilarating  welcome  of  her  hospitable  embrace.  The 
blood-red  banner  of  Turkey  with  its  snowy  star  and  crescent 
was  first  of  the  foreign  flags  unfurled.  The  white  ensign  of 
Japan  with  its  scarlet  disk  soon  followed.  Mexico  ; the  cen- 
tral and  South  American  republics  ; Spain,  which  had  given 
us  Columbus  ; Italy,  the  country  of  his  birth  ; France  ; 
Germany  ; Austria  ; Holland  ; Belgium  ; Sweden  and  Nor- 
way ; Denmark  ; Switzerland  ; Russia  ; Burmah  and  Siam; 
Great  Britain  and  her  colonies — all  the  world  responded. 
Even  discrowned  Ireland  was  represented  and  thus  the 
quadri-centennial  of  America’s  discovery  brought  the  na- 
tions together  as  no  other  event  could  have  done.  Here  was 
an  occasion  in  which  all  could  participate  and  rejoice.  It 
was  a vantage  ground  upon  w'hich  civilization  could  stand 
without  fetter  of  racial  prejudice  or  religious  bigotry.  The 
work  of  Columbus  belonged  to  all  mankind  and  the  glory  of 
his  achievement  reflected  honor  on  the  whole  human  race. 
Here  in  all  the  splendor  of  rational  liberty,  with  every  right 
guaranteed  by  law,  stood  the  citizens  of  a self-governing  na- 
tion to  welcome  every  comer  ; and  if  we  learned  much  from 
our  visitors  they  learned  no  less  from  ourselves.  They  saw 
us  as  God’s  angels  see  us.  holding  the  blossoming  rod  of 
freedom  in  our  hands,  knowing  no  master  save  the  Almighty 
Ruler  of  the  universe.  They  saw  us  extending  to  all  within 
our  borders  the  absolute,  indefeasible  and  inalienable  right  to 
worship  God  in  peace  according  to  the  dictates  of  conscience. 
They  saw  the  Church  of  the  Living  God — the  Church  of 
Columbus — free  to  pursue  her  heaven-inspired  mission 
among  men.  On  all  sides  were  apparent  the  evidences  of 
our  abundant  resources  and  when  they  left  us  for  their  homes 
in  the  glowing  East  or  gorgeous  West  they  carried  with  them 
new  lights  to  shed  yet  more  refulgence  on  the  varied  systems 
of  thought  and  government  which  had  swayed  their  intel- 
lect and  commanded  their  allegiance. 

The  marvels  of  the  Columbian  Exposition  were  so  many 


6 


TEE  WORLD'S  COL  UMBIAN  EKPOSITION. 


that  one  turns  in  bewilderment  from  tbeir  remembrance. 
In  the  vast  Manufacturers’  Building  four  great  nations, 
France,  Germany,  Great  Britain  and  the  United  States,  oc- 
cupied the  centre.  It  was  in  that  building  that  the  surpris- 
ing fertility  of  thought,  the  resource  and  ingenuity  of  the 
American  people  were  fully  displayed.  The  exhibits  of  the 
United  States  alone,  occupied  twelve  acres  and  yet  only 
one  tenth  of  the  space  asked  for  by  American  exhibitors 
could  be  accorded  them.  The  progress  of  the  world  was  spread 
before  the  nations  in  the  Manufacturers’  Building  and  it  is 
of  remarkable  interest  that  the  British  colony  of  New  South 
Wales,  in  proportion  to  its  population  and  wealth,  was  held 
by  competent  judges  to  have  made  the  best  exhibit. 

Again  in  Machinery  Hall  which  covered  eighteen  acres 
the  inventive  genius  of  modern  times  demonstrated  its 
capacity  to  meet  the  demands  of  the  human  race  in  a num- 
ber of  ways  that  seemed  to  reach  the  level  of  every  imagin- 
able requirement. 

In  the  building  devoted  to  Agriculture,  including  Forestry, 
Dairy  products  and  a Live  Stock  Pavilion;  the  buildings  given 
over  to  Horticulture  ; Fisheries  ; Mines  ; Electricity,  and 
Transportation,  the  same  wonderful  results  of  man’s  endeav- 
or to  reach  the  highest  proportions  of  excellence  were  dis- 
played, while  the  comprehensive  breadth  of  view  of  the  pro- 
moters of  the  Exposition  was  shown  in  the  ample  means  af- 
forded to  exhibitors  of  displaying  the  results  of  their  skill 
and  industry. 

All  these  buildings  reflected  honor  on  the  architects  and 
builders  connected  with  their  erection,  but  from  architects 
and  laymen  alike  the  Gallery  of  Fine  Arts  received  the  high- 
est meed  of  praise.  In  this  building  of  classical  beauty  a 
vast  number  of  exhibits  revealed  the  extent  of  the  World’s 
genius  in  Art,  showing  how  in  statuary  and  painting  the 
human  mind  delights  to  show  its  love  of  the  beautiful  and  re- 
fined. 

Educational  methods  and  systems;  instruments  of  science 
and  musical  instruments  received  fitting  shelter  in  the  build- 
ing devoted  to  Liberal  Arts  while  the  several  State  Buildings 


THE  WORLD'S  COL  UMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


7 


contained  the  diversified  proofs  of  our  people’s  exhaustless 
resources  and  resistless  energy. 

A sketch  however  brief  of  the  World’s  Columbian  Exposi- 
tion would  be  wholly  incomplete  if  the  Midway  Plaisance 
were  forgotten.  In  the  park  system  of  Chicago  this  strip  of 
land,  one  mile  in  length  and  six  hundred  feet  in  width,  con- 
nects Jackson  Park,  which  lies  on  the  lake  shore,  with  Wash- 
ington Park  the  oldest  and  best  improved  of  all  the  parks 
and  situated  on  the  South  side  of  the  city.  During  the  Exposi- 
tion Midway  Plaisance  was  a feature  of  constant  attraction. 

It  was  a conglomeration  of  foreign  peoples,  each  race  with 
a village  of  its  own  and  with  every  accessory  of  scene  and 
surrounding  to  show  the  veritable  home  life  of  the  various 
inhabitants  of  the  globe.  In  the  Irish  Village,  Irish  lace 
weavers,  makers  of  hand  lace,  weavers  of  linens,  carvers 
in  wood  and  marble  with  operators  in  art  linens  showed  the 
perfection  to  which  they  could  triumphantly  aspire.  In  the 
Japanese  Bazaar  the  ingenuity  of  the  first  among  the  Mon- 
golian races  was  shown  in  steel,  iron  and  brass  work,  screens 
and  fans.  The  Dutch  Settlement  brought  to  view  a Javanese 
or  South  Sea  Islands  gathering ; while  in  the  German  Village 
the  steady  home  life  of  the  German  people  with  their  best 
hopes  tor  yet  further  greatness  invited  general  admiration. 

Streets  in  Cairo,  Algiers  and  Tunis,  with  villages  showing  life 
in  Lapland,  and  Dahomey  ; China  stood  forth  in  striking 
contrast  with  Austrian  revelations  of  the  streets  in  old 
Vienna  and  Turkish  exhibitions  of  the  public  highways  and 
marts  in  Constantinople.  The  Midway  Plaisance  seemed  as 
though  it  had  brought  all  mankind  together  to  make  of  Chi- 
cago a great  rallying  centre. 

One  feature  of  immediate  connection  with  the  World’s 
Columbian  Exposition  deserves  special  mention.  It  is  one 
of  the  proudest  as  indeed  it  is  one  of  the  most  attractive 
boasts  of  Christian  civilization  that  it  has  ennobled  and  ex- 
alted the  standing  of  woman  as  no  pagan  or  unbeliever  of 
ancient  or  modern  times  could  understand  or  appreciate. 

Even  among  the  Chosen  People  the  position  of  woman  was 

closely  assimilated  to  that  of  slavery.  But  with  the  coming  \ 


8 


TBB  WORLD’S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


of  Christ  a mighty  change  was  inevitable.  Holy  and  pure 
indeed  must  she  be  who  will  bear  the  Saviour  in  the  sanc- 
tuary of  her  virginal  womb.  Favored  beyond  all  other 
creatures  must  she  be  upon  whose  consent  depends  the  won- 
derful mystery  of  the  Incarnation.  Hence  it  was  that  from 
the  beginning  the  Church  of  Christ  delighted  to  honor  the 
ever  Immaculate  Mother  of  God — her  whom  Gabriel 
saluted  as  full  of  grace  and  whose  own  glorious  prophecy  in 
tlie  beautiful  canticle  of  the  Magnificat  declared  that  all 
generations  should  hail  as  blessed.  It  followed  as  a natural 
sequence  that  the  reverence  paid  to  Mary  should  operate 
favorably  on  the  whole  sex  of  which  she  was  the  peerless 
pearl  ; and  the  true  emancipation  of  woman  and  her  exalta- 
tion among  the  creatufes  of  God  were  due  to  the  Church  of 
which  Columbus  was  a faithful  and  pious  member.  Again 
it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  enterprise  of  the  great  dis- 
coverer owed  its  initiatory  success  to  the  devotion,  piety, 
zeal  and  self-sacrificing  spirit  of  a woman.  It  was  from  Isa- 
bella, the  Catholic,  that  Columbus  received  the  necessary 
means  to  prosecute  his  designs;  and,  unintended  though  it 
undoubtedly  was,  no  grander  tribute  has  been  paid  to  Cath- 
olic influences  in  modern  times  than  was  the  establishment 
of  the  Board  of  Lady  Managers  to  specially  foster,  promote 
and  protect  the  genuine  interests  of  woman  in  the  World’s 
Columbian  Exposition.  In  none  of  the  preceding  interna- 
tional expositions  had  such  a striking  innovation  been 
dreamt  of.  It  was  reserved  for  America  to  place  those  “who 
rock  the  cradle”  upon  a yet  higher  plane  among  the  rulers 
of  the  world  ; and  to  their  immortal  honor  it  is  to  be  recorded 
that  the  Board  of  Lady  Managers,  in  all  that  came  within 
the  legitimate  scope  of  their  work,  fully  upheld  the  dignity 
of  woman  as  understood  by  the  Church  which  is  her  special 
protector,  recognizing  her  as  the  worthy  helpmeet  but  not 
the  slave  of  man. 

October  20,  21  and  22  in  the  year  1892,  were  gala  days  in 
the  history  of  Chicago — days  of  grace  and  of  promise,  in 
the  history  of  the  United  States.  These  v^ere  the  days  de- 
voted to  the  ceremonies  of  dedication  and  never  before  in  the 


THE  WORLD'S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


9 


history  of  American  cities  had  an  event  of  greater  moment, 
or  one  so  pregnant  with  blessings  for  the  country,  been  cele- 
brated. October  20  opened  with  clear  skies  and  a ra- 
diant dawn  upon  the  city  of  Chicago.  All  the  inhabitants  put 
on  holiday  guise  and  from  every  point  of  vantage,  from  dome 
and  spire  and  roof,  flags  were  fluttering  in  the  bracing  air. 
This  day  was  given  to  a monster  civic  parade  in  which  all 
the  societies  joined — the  municipal  authorities,  the  members 
of  the  National  Guard  and  the  Governors  of  various  States 
attended  by  their  respective  suites.  In  every  detail  the 
civic  parade  proved  to  be  a great  success  and  a happy  aug- 
ury for  the  future  of  the  Exposition. 

On  the  following  day  the  regular  exercises  of  the  dedica- 
tion took  place.  Over  one  hundred  thousand  persons  were 
seated  during  the  ceremonies.  As  became  the  genius  of 
American  institutions  in  which  the  civil  authority  is  para- 
mount, the  Mayor  of  the  city,  Hon.  Hempstead  Washburne, 
presided.  Colonel  Geo.  R.  Davis,  Director  General  of  the 
Exposition,  delivered  the  Introductory  Address.  Mrs.  Pot- 
ter Palmer,  President  of  the  Lady  Board  of  Managers,  de- 
livered an  address  also.  Two  Protestant  clergymen  offered 
prayer,  and  the  majestic  simplicity  of  the  Catholic  faith 
which  had  inspired  the  great  Columbus  was  splendidly 
manifested  when  His  Eminence,  Cardinal  James  Gibbons, 
Archbishop  of  Baltimore,  arose  to  beseech  God’s  blessing  on 
this  greatest  of  modern  enterprises.  Kentucky  sent  her 
great  Democratic  orator,  Henry  Watterson,  to  deliver  the 
Dedicatory  oration  while  New  York’s  Republican  speaker, 
Chauncey  M.  Depew,  thrilled  his  hearers  in  the  Columbian 
oration,  the  echoes  of  which  rang  across  the  continent  and 
elicited  universal  applause.  An  ode  by  Miss  Harriet  Monroe 
of  Chicago  and  musical  exercises  by  John  K.  Paine  of 
Cambridge  and  G.  V.  Chadwick  of  Boston  filled  in  an  ad- 
mirable programme,  and  thus  with  every  pomp  and  circum- 
stance of  glorious  Peace  the  great  work  was  auspiciously  ded- 
icated. On  the  evening  of  the  same  day  the  dedicatory 
exercises  of  the  W orld’s  Congress  Auxiliary  were  held  in  the 
vast  hall  of  the  Auditorium  ; and  there  the  chief  feature  was 


10 


THE  WORLD’S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


tile  oration  of  Most  Reverend  John  Ireland — the  great  Cath- 
olic, the  great  American,  the  great  citizen,  whose  voice  as  it 
thunders  from  his  episcopal  city  of  St.  Paul  commands  the 
instant  attention  of  our  people  of  all  creeds  and  of  all  part- 
ies. American  Catholics  are  proud  indeed  of  such  eminent 
prelates  as  Archbishops  Gibbons  and  Ireland.  And  when  we 
look  back  through  the  struggles  and  vicissitudes  of  the  past 
we  rejoice  and  are  glad  in  realizing  that  the  Church  of  God 
ill  oiir  country  is  so  efficiently  represented,  as  beyond  all 
question  she  is,  by  a hierarchy  of  such  merit  as  is  that  of  the 
holy,  able,  energetic  archbishops  and  bishops  who  direct  the 
destinies  of  the  Church  in  America.  The  spirit  which  ani- 
mates a Gibbons  or  an  Ireland  fills  the  heart  and  governs  the 
acts  of  all  our  venerable  guides.  To  them  we  are  devoted  in 
the  bonds  of  a holy  allegiance  which  leads  us  to  move  on  the 
lines  they  indicate  for  us — lines  of  obedience  to  the  laws  of 
God  in  the  first  place  and  next  of  a patriotic  love  of  country 
which  inspires  us  to  reverence  the  Constitution,  to  revere  the 
laws,  to  cherish  our  free  political  institutions  and  to  be  ever 
ready  to  shed  our  blood,  if  need  be,  in  defense  of  our  Starry 
banner.  Catholic  citizens  are  proud  of  America  and  in  the 
exercises  which  dedicated  the  “White  City”  to  its  great  mis- 
sion of  peace  and  progress  it  was  eminently  in  keeping  with 
our  status  in  the  citizenship  of  the  Republic  that  Catholic 
dignitaries  should  by  presence,  prayer  and  speet^  give  testi- 
mony of  Catholic  piety  and  Catholic  patriotism.  On  October 
22  the  several  State  buildings  in  Jackson  Park  were  dedicated 
and  the  inaugural  exercises  closed  with  military  manoeuvres 
in  Washington  Park. 

With  the  close  of  the  dedicatory  exercises  work  on  the 
preparations  to  receive  the  industrial  and  art  treasures  of 
the  world,  was  resumed  with  energy.  Meanwhile  public  in- 
terest was  focussing  in  the  direction  of  New  York.  To  the 
nations  of  the  world  the  President  of  the  United  States  had 
extended  a cordial  invitation  asking  them  to  join  in  honoring 
the  memory  of  Columbus  by  a great  naval  parade.  No  such 
splendid  harbor  existed  elsewhere  within  our  jurisdiction 
as  the  unrivalled  expanse  of  water  across  whose  swelling 


THE  WORLD'S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


11 


waves  the  light  of  “Liberty  Enliglitening  the  World”  casts 
its  welcoming  rays.  New  York,  so  favored  by  nature  and 
developed  by  man,  was  chosen  for  this  magnificent  naval 
display.  Early  in  April,  1893,  Hampton  Roads  beheld  rep 
resentative  vessels  from  all  the  great  navies  of  the  world 
making  rendezvous  there  and  when  all  had  gathered — ves- 
sels from  Great  Britain,  Prance,  Germany,  Russia,  Italy, 
Spain,  Holland,  the  South  American  republics  <fec.  de- 
ployed in  stately  line  and  sailed  northward  for  the  harbor 
of  New  York. 

Early  on  the  morning  of  April  24  a Spanish  war  ship 
towed  the  caravel,  Santa  Maria,  into  the  harbor  of  that 
city.  On  the  following  day  thirty-five  ships  of  war, 
representing  some  ten  nations,  came  inside  Sandy  Hook  and 
on  the  26th  they  anchored  in  the  Hudson  River,  being 
received  by  the  President  of  the  United  States  in  his  official 
capacity.  On  the  27th  the 'great  naval  pageant  in  which  at 
least  ten  thousand  officers  and  men  participated,  was 
reviewed  and  on  the  28th  a land  parade  aroused  New  York 
enthusiasm  to  its  utmost.  American  seamen  trod  the  streets 
of  the  city  in  serried  array  followed  by  sturdy  upholders  of 
England,  Russia,  Italy,  the  Argentine  Republic,  Holland, 
Germany,  France  and  Brazil.  The  parade  was  reviewed  at 
the  City  Hall  by  the  Mayor  of  New  York  and  the  Governor 
of  the  State.  Festivities  were  provided  by  the  Chamber  of 
Commerce  and  by  leading  clubs  to  which  the  officers  of  the 
respective  fleets  were  invited,  and  a carnival  of  peace  w’as 
shared  in  by  all.  As  the  great  ships  lay  at  anchor  on  the 
bosom  of  the  noble  Hudson  they  were  objects  of  intense 
interest  to  thousands  of  our  citizens  and  among  the  features 
of  the  naval  display  which  awakened  so  much  of  surprise 
and  admiration  none  attracted  more  attention  than  the 
caravels  of  Columbus — the  Santa  Maria,  the  Pinta  and  the 
Nina.  The  mighty  vessels  of  war  typified  destructive  capac- 
ity. But  the  caravels  told  the  story  of  constructive  discov- 
ery. And  greater  grew  the  surprise  and  beyond  power  of 
description  the  admiration  when  men  looked  on  the 
tiny  craft  and  thought  of  the  sublime  courage  which  must 


12 


TEE  WORLD'S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


have  animated  Columbus  when  he  faced  the  trackless  ocean 
in  such  frail  vessels. 

All  classes  in  New  York  vied  with  each  other  in  making 
the  visit  of  our  foreign  friends  an  ever-memorable  one  in 
the  history  of  naval  pageants.  The  metropolis  of  the  union 
never  does  anything  by  halves.  Merchant  and  mechanic 
joined  forces  in  a display  of  abundant  hospitality  to  tlie 
sturdy  men  who  plough  the  deeps  and  guard  the  interests  of 
their  respective  nations,  while  our  own  national  pride  was 
flattered  and  our  material  progress  yet  further  demonstrated 
by  the  splendid  exhibition  of  our  growing  naval  strength  as 
given  by  the  White  Squadron  over  whose  towering  decks  the 
flag  of  the  Catholic  father  of  the  American  Navy,  “Saucy 
Jack  Barry,  half  Irishman  and  half  Yankee,”  floated  in 
conscious  glory. 

May  1,  1893,  was  the  day  of  days  for  the  World’s  Colum- 
bian Exposition.  On  that  day  President  Cleveland  in  pres- 
ence of  an  unnumbered  multitude  touched  the  electric  button 
which  set  the  vast  machinery  in  motion  and  opened  to  the 
nations  this  greatest  of  international  expositions.  High  of- 
ficials and  notabilities  of  all  lands  and  races  thronged 
around  the  majesty  of  the  United  States,  personified  in  the 
person  of  our  Chief  Magistrate.  The  Duke  of  Veragua — 
lineal  descendant  of  Columbus  representing  the  tenth  gener- 
ation from  the  discoverer — was  there  to  share  our  festivities 
and  participate  in  proceedings  every  detail  of  which  shed 
glory  on  the  name  of  his  immortal  ancestor.  The  power  and 
culture  of  the  world  were  represented  in  this  grand  function, 
presided  over  by  a republic  in  which  Liberty  is  enshrined 
in  Law  and  to  whose  genius  anarchy  and  license  are  utterly 
foreign  and  repugnant.  When  Columbus  discovered  this 
continent  he  unfurled  the  Cross  on  its  virgin  shores  ; and 
never  can  the  traditions  or  institutions  of  our  country  be 
forgotten  or  engulfed  in  the  miasmatic  fogs  or  murky  waters 
of  agnosticism  or  abandonment  of  Cod.  It  was  indeed  a 
solemn  moment  when  the  President  of  the  United  States 
formally  opened  the  World’s  Columbian  Exposition.  Be- 
hind him  stretched  a line  of  predecessors  not  one  of  whom 


, THE  WORLD’S  'COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


13 


had  ever  ventured  to  separate  the  country  from  its  Christian 
traditions.  He  knew  that  the  millions  over  whom  he  exer- 
cised the  high  duties  of  his  office  were  Christian  in  senti- 
ment and  that  material  prosperity  had  with  each  recurring 
year  acknowledged  its  dependence  on  God  “from  whom  all 
blessings  flow.”  He  saw  beside  him  men  of  various  tribes 
and  tongues,  men  of  all  the  races  that  people  this  planet  and 
as  he  stood  in  their  midst  he  must  have  realized  that  won- 
derful indeed  and  beyond  human  conception  is  the  Eternal 
Majesty  in  whose  Providence  reposes  the  all-wise  direction 
of  all  created  things. 

From  a business  or  purely  material  point  of  view  the 
World’s  Columbian  Exposition  was  a great  success.  But 
while  grateful  to  heaven  for  every  material  good  and  bless- 
ing the  citizens  of  the  United  States  who  belong  to  the  Cath- 
olic  Church  have  greater  and  graver  reasons  to  rejoice  and  be 
glad  because  of  that  success  which  in  common  with  patriotic 
citizens  of  all  denominations  they  had  so  earnestly  desired. 
As  a commemorative  event  the  Exposition  in  itself  was  a 
revelation  of  Catholic  enterprise,  devotion,  courage  and  faith 
in  God.  Not  for  the  purpose,  laudable  however  it  might  be,  of 
mere  material  gain  did  the  great  discoverer  direct  the  prows 
of  his  caravels  across  the  then  unknown  waste  of  waters  sep- 
arating the  Old  and  New  Worlds.  On  the  contrary  his  all- 
controlling and  impelling  desire  was  that  he  might  gain  a 
new  Kingdom  for  Christ.  The  immediate  result  of  his  en- 
terprise was  to  direct  the  attention  of  nations  which  had  not 
yet  departed  from  the  One  Fold  to  the  existence  of  this 
mighty  fleld  for  colonization  and  consequent  development. 
Along  through  the  years  that  have  intervened  since  then 
Catholic  enterprise  has  flowed  in  beneficent  streams  of 
Christian  effort.  The  blood  of  Catholic  missionaries  has  en- 
riched American  soil  with  its  life-giving  properties  and  still 
we  remain  to  witness  in  our  very  existence  the  indestructible 
devotion  of  Catholic  hearts  to  all  that  is  noble,  exalted  and 
pure.  The  love  of  education  which  is  inseparable  from  Cath- 
olicity was  strikingly  displayed  in  the  Catholic  School  Ex- 
hibit which  won  the  admiration  of  all  who  visited  the  Ex- 


14 


THE  WORLD'S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


position  ; and  our  determination  to  be  second  in  no  good, 
feature  of  life  and  action  was  there  stamped  in  characters 
that  cannot  be  effaced. 

Again  in  the  programme  of  the  World’s  Auxiliary  Con- 
gress the  glory  of  Catholicity  was  made  manifest  in  the 
magnificent  addresses  of  prelates  and  priests  who  before  all 
men  gave  testimony  of  wiiat  our  holy  religion  is  as  distin- 
guished from  what  the  forces  of  unbelief  or  of  heresy  would 
have  it  appear  to  be.  Among  such  a people  as  are  the  cit- 
izens of  this  republic  Catholicity  can  no  more  be  effectually 
defamed,  derided  or  misrepresented.  For  the  entire  Ameri- 
can nation  the  World’s  Columbian  Exposition  was  a grand 
object  lesson  in  favor  of  the  faith  of  Columbus  and  the  bats 
of  bigotry  must  away  to  their  dark  caves  as  the  light  of  all 
that  the  Catholic  Church  has  achieved  for  this  continent  falls 
in  resplendent  rays  of  glory  upon  the  history  and  progress 
of  the  country. 

The  World’s  Columbian  Exposition  during  the  six  months 
of  its  duration  was  a great  teacher  to  the  human  race.  Some 
twenty-eight  millions  of  persons  visited  it  and  the  world 
knows  now  as  it  never  knew  before  that  under  God’s  direct- 
ing hand  the  United  States  is  the  peer  of  the  proudest  among 
the  nations. 

October  30th,  1893,  beheld  the  close  of  this  great  Interna- 
tional Exposition.  The  ceremonies  were  few  and  simple  be- 
cause Chicago,  so  young  and  buoyant,  was  shocked  to  her 
very  heart  and  was  clothed  in  mourning  for  one  of  her  most 
active  and  foremost  citizens.  Two  days  before  a miscreant 
had  stained  his  hands  in  the  life-blood  of  Carter  Henry  Har- 
rison, a director  of  the  Exposition  and  then  serving  his  fel- 
low-citizens as  Mayor  of  the  city.  Under  such  an  awful  cir- 
cumstance it  was  felt  that  civic  jubilation  over  the  success 
of  the  great  enterprise  would  jar  upon  the  public  mind  then 
steeped  in  grief.  In  the  presence  of  a few  hundred  persons 
assembled  in  Festival  Hall  the  fair  was  closed  with  a short 
address  by  President  Palmer  of  the  National  Commission 
and  when  his  gavel  fell  America’s  grand  tribute  to  the  mem- 
ory of  Columbus  passed  into  the  domain  of  history. 


THE  WORLD'S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


15 


Americans  can  well  rejoice  in  the  page  of  their  country’s 
story  which  was  so  brilliantly  illuminated  by  the  Columbian 
Exposition.  Old  Europe,  the  mother-country  of  our  republic, 
then  learned  to  be  proud  of  her  glorious  daughter.  In  every 
field  of  human  endeavor  we  are  marching  onward  and  up- 
ward. Our  motto  is  “Excelsior”  and  we  spare  no  energy  and 
shrink  from  no  exertion  that  may  be  necessary  to  lead  us  to 
the  summit  of  national  greatness.  Peace  is  within  our  bor- 
ders while  the  tireless  hand  of  our  ceaseless  Industry  never 
fails  in  filling  the  bounteous  horn  of  our  abundant  Plenty. 
Our  gates  are  ajar  to  every  willing  worker  and  to  the  weary 
and  heavy-laden  of  oppressed  lands  we  offer  the  repose  and 
refreshment  of  our  liberty  guarded  shores. 

Approaching  the  limits  set  by  space  to  the  waiter  he 
would  here  venture  to  remind  his  co-religionists  that  if 
there  be  one  object  more  prized  than  another  in  the  heart  of 
the  reigning  Pontiff  it  is  that  of  the  conversion  of  America 
to  the  Catholic  faith.  Take  them  all  in  all  the  American 
people  are  Christian  in  law,  tradition  and  sentiment.  They 
are  a brave,  high  and  fair-minded  people  and  their  entrance 
into  “the  Holy  City  of  God,  which  is  the  Church”  would 
cause  glorious  Jubilee  in  the  highest  courts  of  heaven.  In 
the  language  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Third  Plenary  Council 
held  in  Baltimore  in  1884,  “A  Catholic  finds  himself  at 
home  in  the  United  States,  for  the  influence  of  the  Church 
has  been  constantly  exercised  in  behalf  of  individual  rights 
and  popular  liberties.  And  the  right-minded  American  no- 
where finds  himself  more  at  home  than  in  the  Catholic 
Church,  for  nowhere  else  can  he  breathe  more  freely  that  at- 
mosphere of  divine  truth  which  alone  can  make  him  free.” 
What  a sublime  spectacle  for  angels  and  men  to  gaze  upon 
with  admiring  awe  and  love  it  would  be  to  behold  the  mil- 
lions of  our  fellow-citizens  who  are  now  outside  the  fold  of 
the  Church,  all  gathered  at  her  feet  and  sheltered  from  every 
spiritual  storm  beneath  the  mantle  of  her  exhaustless  char- 
ity. 

Nor  is  it  an  idle  dream  to  wish  or  vain  endeavor  to 
work  for  the  conversion  of  America.  The  great  groundwork 


16 


TEE  WORLD’S  COLUMBIAN  EXPOSITION. 


of  our  laws  and  customs  has  come  to  us  from  the  laws  of 
Catholic  England  and  our  institutions  are  essentially  conserv- 
ative in  all  vital  respects.  The  two  great  races  which  profess 
the  Catholic  faith  in  the  United  States,  namely  the  Irish  and 
the  German,  are  races  in  whose  lexicon  the  word  “defeat” 
has  no  place.  They  are  races  in  which  the  influences  of  home 
and  family  life  abide  and  abound; — strong  and  virile  races 
that  love  the  music  of  children’s  voices;  given  to  association 
and  organization;  devoted  to  their  religious  guides  and  firm 
as  rocks  in  their  adherence  to  the  principles  of  Church  au  thor- 
ity.  They  are  also  energetic,  pushing,  and  aggressive  in  every 
field  of  political  activity  and  therefore  become  factors  in  the 
public  life  of  the  country  of  constant  and  increasing  weight. 
These, among  other  considerations,go  to  show  that  Catholicity 
must  become  better  known  every  day  and  necessarily  attract 
the  order-loving  American  mind  by  the  beauty  of  doctrine, 
the  symmetry  of  proportion,  the  harmony  of  design  which 
surround  the  Church  of  Christ  in  a halo  of  winning  splendor. 
The  land  of  America  was  discovered  by  a Catholic,  an  earn- 
est, practical  Catholic.  The  soul  of  America  must  be  dis- 
covered by  Catholics,  earnest,  practical  Catholics.  The  land 
of  America  was  consecrated  to  God’s  glory  by  a Catholic 
and  Catholics  must  pray  and  work  that  God  may  hasten  the 
advent  of  our  glorious  country  into  the  communion  of  the 
Church  Militant  and  thus  prepare  to  increase  the  numbers 
of  the  Church  Triumphant  in  an  eternity  of  felicity  un- 
speakable. 

In  the  World’s  Columbian  Exposition  America  rendered 
honor  to  herself  among  the  nations.  It  now  remains  for 
those  who  kneel  at  the  same  altar  before  which  Columbus 
knelt  to  complete  his  work  by  making  of  this  republic  a 
bright  jewel  in  the  crown  of  the  Church— a land  in  which 
shall  be  honored  by  millions  of  free  citizens  the  Ever-Ador- 
able  Christ — the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords — “Jesus 
Christ,  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  the  same  forever.” 

JAMES  J.  GAHAN. 


New  York,  May  12th,  1896. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


Christopher  Columbus, 

THE 

DISCOVERER  OF  AMERICA  AND  THE  GREATEST  OF  ADmRALS.' 


“The  Western  World  and  dauntless  Chief  I sing. 

Who  steered  his  course  with  bold  adventurous  wing, 

Through  unfrequented  seas  from  Palos’  shore. 

Where  pilot  guided  ne’er  his  helm  before.” — Moore’s  ColunMad. 

“ He  who  does  not  believe  in  the  supernatural,  cannot  comprehend  Co- 
lumbus.— Count  de  Lorgues. 

“ Aujourd’hui  la  grande  figure  de  Christophe  Colomb  s’elSve  au-dessus  de 
tous  les  decouvreurs  anciens  et  modernes ; il  se  distingue  d’entre  eux  tous  par 
la  profondeur  de  son  genie,  par  la  beaute  de  son  caract^re,  par  la  franchise  de 
sa  foi  et  de  sa  piete,  et  par  la  couronne  du  malheur,  dont  I’ingrate  Espagne  lui 
ceignit  le  front.” — Abbe  Ferland. 


. CHAPTER  I. 

FROM  INFANCY  TO  MANHOOD. 

The  parents  and  birth  of  Columbus — School-days — Early 
life  and  adventures — Appearance^  manners  and  char- 
acter— Marriage. 

A little  less  than  four  centuries  and  a half  ago,  there 
lived,  in  a neat  house, in  the  suburbs  of  the  famous  city  of 
Genoa,’  two  virtuous  young  persons,  who,  in  the  designs  of 
God,  were  to  be  the  parents  of  one  of  the  most  illustrious 

•Chief  authorities  used:  Count  de  Lorgues,  “Life  of  Christopher  Columbus,”  translated  by 
Dr.  Barry;  De  I/jrgues,  “ L’Ambassadenr  de  Dleu  et  le  Pape  Pie  IX.”  De  Lorgues,  “ Satan  Centre 
Christophe  Colomb,  ou  la  pretendne  chute  du  Servitenr  de  Dieu;”  Inlng,  “ Life  and  Voyages 
of  Christopher  Columbus;”  Father  Knight,  S.  J.,  "Life  of  Christopher  Columbus; ” Sir  Arthur 
Helps,  “Life  of  Christopher  Columbus;  ” Lamartine,  “Vie  de  Christophe  Colomb;  ” Robertson 
■“  History  of  America;  ” Prescott,  “ History  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella.” 

•“  Thence  I am,”  the  Discoverer  of  America  wrote  in  his  will,  “and  there  was  I bom,” 


18 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


men  in  all  history.  Dominic  Colombo'  and  Susanna  Fon- 
tanarossa  loved  each  other,  the  Chiirch  had  placed  the  holy 
seal  of  her  benediction  on  their  tender  affection,  and  now 
they  were  companions  for  life. 

Dominic,  though  not  rich,  was  in  respectable  circum- 
stances; and  he  was  not  ignorant  that  he  belonged  to  a fam- 
ily once  wealthy  and  noble."  A small  fortune  inherited  by 
his  young  wife,  somewhat  increased  his  worldly  store.  Still, 
his  income  was  slender,  and  to  make  up  for  this  he  carried  on 
the  business  of  woolcombing.  He  had  a place  for  weaving 
clothes,  in  which  he  employed  a workman  and  an  apprentice. 

In  the  year  1435,  a little  stranger  came  into  the  world  in  the 
quiet  suburban  residence  of  Dominic  Colombo.  The  bright 
babe,  in  due  time,  was  taken  to  the  church  of  St.  Stephen,  and 
the  silvery  waters  of  Baptism  rolled  upon  its  innocent  head. 
The  name  given  was  Christopher.^  AVe  wonder  if  the  good 
Benedictine  Father,  as  he  performed  the  sacred  ceremony, 
thought  of  this  very  suggestive  name ; or  if  any  gleam  of 
light  was  shed  on  the  glorious  and  eventful  future  in  store 
for  the  little  Christian ! But  in  vain  does  our  curiosity 
question  the  past.  The  gloom  of  ages  surrounds  the  cra- 
dle of  Christopher  Columbus.  The  details  of  his  early  life, 
which  have  come  down  to  us,  are  indeed  sadly  meagre. 

" Seated  I see  tlie  two  again. 

But  not  alone ; they  entertain 
A little  angel  unaware, 

With  face  as  round  as  in  the  moon; 

A royal  guest  with  flaxen  hair. 

Who,  throned  upon  his  lofty  chair, 

Drums  on  the  table  with  his  spoon. 

Then  drops  it  careless  on  the  floor 
To  grasp  at  things  unseen  before.”'' 

> This  is  the  Italian  form  of  the  name.  Columbus  latinized  his  name  in  his  letters  according 
to  the  usage  of  the  time,  when  Latin  was  the  language  of  learned  correspondence.— /mng'. 

2 In  regard  to  the  ancestors  of  Columbus.  Irving’s  account  is  exceedingly  vague,  and  leaves  us 
to  wander  in  the  mazes  of  conjecture.  DeLorgues  says:  “It  \s,  cei-taiii  that  the  ancestors  of 
Columbus  belonged  to  the  nobility.’’  But  on  this  point,  we  feel  very  little  interested.  The  true 
greatness  of  Columbus — as  of  all  really  great  men— arose  from  his  own  achievements,  not  those  of 
his  ancestors.  He  stands  on  his  own  merits.  He  shines  by  no  borrowed  light.  His  son,  Fer- 
nando, who  wrote  the  life  of  his  illustrious  father,  had  a true  Christian  feeling  on  this  subject. 
“ I am’ of  opinion,”  says  he,  “ that  I should  derive  less  dignity  from  any  nobility  of  ancestry  tha« 
from  being  the  son  of  such  a father.” 

> Christopher  signifies  the  Christ-bearer;  Columbus,  a dove. 

« Longfellow,  “ The  Hanging  of  the  Crane.” 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


n 

Years  rolled  on.  Christoplier  grew  up  to  boyhood,  the 
hope  and  pride  of  his  parents.  The  brightness  of  his  eldest 
son — he  had  now  more  than  one' — did  not  escape  the  keen 
eye  of  Dominic  Colombo.  He  remarked,  among  other  qual- 
ities, that  the  lad  loved  the  sea,  and  was  very  fond  of  study- 
ing geography.  He  saw  his  course  as  became  a wise  father. 
He  resolved  to  second  the  genius  of  his  son.  And  at  the 
risk  of  pinching  himself  and  his  family,  he  sent  Christopher 
in  his  tenth  year  to  the  University  of  Pavia,  where  the  boy 
studied  Latin,"  geometry,  geography,  astronomy  and  navi- 
gation. His  collegiate  career,  however,  was  short.  In  his 
twelfth  year  the  young  student  was  obliged  to  return  home 
to  assist  his  father. 

The  wide  knowledge  and  deep  scientific  attainments  which 
Columbus  possessed  in  after  life  were  the  result  of  experi- 
ence and  long  and  careful  self-instruction.  Men  of  strong 
genius  derive  an  advantage  from  having  thus,  at  the  very 
outset,  to  contend  with  poverty  and  privations.  They  learn 
to  depend  upon  themselves,  to  improve  every  casual  advan- 
tage, and  to  effect  great  ends  by  small  means.  Such  a man 
was  Columbus.  His  own  energy  and  invention  supplied 
every  deficiency,  and  in  all  his  undertakings,  the  scantiness 
of  his  means  enhanced  the  grandeur  of  his  achievements. 

For  the  next  two  years,  it  seems,  Christopher  worked  at 
his  father’s  business.  But,  no  doubt,  he  felt  that  this  was 
not  the  path  of  life  which  Providence  and  his  own  inclina- 
tions pointed  out.  The  sea  was  his  destined  field  of  action. 

“More  frequently  than  not,”  says  Father  Knight,  S.  J., 

‘ ‘ (jrod  leads  men  by  the  path  of  their  own  natural  character 
even  to  the  sublimest  apostolate.” 

At  fourteen  years  of  age,  Columbus  became  a sailor.  In 
those  days  life  on  the  sea  was  full  of  peril  and  adventure. 
Commerce  and  war  went  hand  in  hand.  Pirates  and  free- 
booters were  in  abundance.  The  Christian  mariners,  in 
many  parts  of  the  Mediterranean,  were  always  armed  to  the 
teeth,  and  ready  for  an  encounter  with  Mahometan  corsairs. 


* Christopher  ColmnbnB  was  the  eldest  of  a family  of  five — four  sons  and  one  danghter. 

• Latin  was  the  only  language  in  which  science  was  taught  at  that  time. — RuberUon. 


20 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


Such  was  the  rugged  school  in  which  the  future  admiral  was 
first  broken  into  discipline.  Nor  was  the  teacher  less  rugged 
than  the  school.  He  was  a relative  named  Colombo,  a hardy- 
old  captain  of  the  seas,  bold  and  adventurous,  ready  to  fight 
in  any  cause,  and  to  take  up  a quarrel  whenever  it  might 
lawfully  be  found. 

Many  were  the  deeds  of  daring  performed  by  Christopher 
Columbus,  both  under  this  stern,  old  admiral,  or  -with  a no 
less  bold  and  fighting  nephew,  known  as  Colombo  the 
younger. 

While  on  a cruise  with  the  latter,  an  event  occurred  which 
gave  a new  direction  to  the  career  of  our  hero.  On  the  Por- 
tuguese coast,  near  cape  St.  Vincent,  a number  of  rich 
Venetian  merchantmen  were  attacked  by  Colombo’s  squad- 
ron. Long  and  fierce  was  the  encounter.  The  fight  had 
lasted  nearly  all  day,  the  combatants  were  nearly  exhausted, 
and  the  evening  was  casting  its  shades  over  the  mighty  deep, 
when  the  privateer  commanded  by  Christopher  Columbus, 
grappled  a large  Venetian  vessel,  which  after  a hand-to-hand 
struggle,  caught  fire,  and  both  were  soon  enveloped  in 
flames.  Friends  and  foes  alike  sought  safety  in  the  sea. 
Seizing  a floating  oar,  the  future  discoverer  of  America, 
boldly  struck  for  land,  some  six  miles  distant.  He  reached 
it  after  a desperate  struggle  for  life.  His  first  impulse  was 
to  thank  Heaven. 

It  pleased  God — wrote  his  son  Ferdinand  many  years  after- 
wards— to  preserve  him  for  greater  things. 

Columbus  now  found  himself  on  the  strange  coast  of  Por- 
tugal, a penniless  wanderer.  He  directed  his  steps  towards 
Lisbon,  made  the  acquaintance  of  several  fellow-countrymei? 
there,  and  was,  above  all,  happy  in  finding  his  brother,  Bar- 
tholomew. To  his  eldest  brother,  Bartholomew  was  ever 
devotedly  attached,  and  he  received  him  with  the  greatest 
affection. 

Portugal,  at  this  time,  took  the  lead  in  discovery  and 
maritime  enterprise.  This  was  due  to  the  bright  genius  and 
scientific  attainments  of  Prince  Henry,  a fearless  knight,  a 
true  Catholic,  and  the  most  eminent  navigator  before  Co- 


CHEISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


21 


lumbus.  Encouraged  by  the  Holy  See,  Henry  made  several 
expeditions  along  the  African  coast,  seeking  by  water  a path 
to  tbe  East  Indies. 

The  Pope  granted  a plenary  indulgence  to  aU,  who  taking 
part  in  those  voyages,  should  perish  in  fulfilling  the  condi- 
tions of  the  indulgence.  In  truth,  the  spirit  of  discovery 
was  connected  with  zeal  for  religion,  which,  in  that  Catholic 
age,  was  a principle  of  such  activity,  as  to  influence  the  con- 
duct of  nations. 

Under  the  hospitable  roof  of  his  brother,  Columbus  made 
his  abode  in  the  capital  of  Portugal,  and  supported  himself 
by  drawing  maps  and  charts.*  He  not  only  provided  for  his 
own  immediate  wants,  but  by  economy  and  the  self-denial 
which  his  filial  tenderness  imposed  upon  him,  he  was  ena- 
bled to  sweeten  the  old  age  of  his  father,  to  whom  fortune 
had  not  been  favorable.  “ He  always  took  care,”  writes  the 
historian  Oviedo,  “to  provide  for  the  wants  of  his  father.” 

Let  us  glance  at  the  appearance,  manners,  and  habits 
of  Columbus,  who  had  now  reached  the  fuU  vigor  of  phys- 
ical and  intellectual  manhood,  having  completed  his  thirty 
third  year.  His  biographers  are  minute;  and  their  picture 
is  both  interesting  and  instructive.  In  person,  Columbus 
was  tall,  well-formed,  and  commanding.  About  his  whole 
figure  there  was  something  elevated.  His  appearance  was 
impressive.  His  face  was  a pure  oval  upon  which  nature 
had  stamped  a look  of  unusual  grace,  strength,  and  beauty. 
The  breadth  of  his  mind  was  clearly  indicated  in  his  intel- 
lectual brow  and  large  forehead.  His  nose  was  aquiline,  and 
his  finely  chiseled  lips  expressed  the  magnanimity  of  his 
heart.  All  his  senses  were  remarkably  acute.  His  eyes, 
grey,  keen,  and  strong,  kindled  in  moments  of  enthusiasm, 
and  lit  up  his  manly  countenance.  A dimpled  chin,  a few 
freckles,  a ruddy  complexion,  and  hair  white  as  snow  since 
his  thirtieth  year — such  is  a rough  pen-picture  of  that  won- 
derful man  of  destiny. 


• The  construction  of  a correct  map  or  chart,  in  those  days,  required  a degree  of  knowledge 
and  experience,  sufBcient  to  entitle  the  possessor  to  distinction.— /rctn^. 


22 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


Though  simply  clad,  he  could  pass  nowhere  without  being 
noticed.  His  very  look  suggested  an  air  of  modest  distinc- 
tion. Before  kings  and  grandees  he  appeared  with  as  much 
ease  and  grace  as  if  he  had  been  born  in  a palace. 

He  had  no  other  finery  of  dress  than  cleanliness.  In  this, 
however,  he  was  exquisite.  To  the  absence  of  stains  or  rents, 
or  negligence  in  his  clothing — which  he  knew  how  to  pre- 
serve a long  time — he  endeavored  to  join  whiteness,  and 
often  fineness  of  linen,  always  slightly  perfumed.  For 
him  sweet  scents  had  ever  an  unfailing  attraction. 

Nature  had  gifted  him  with  an  elegant  taste.  He  admired 
with  tenderness  the  works  of  the  Almighty,  and  sought  vdth 
eagerness  for  flowers,  birds,  and  the  productions  of  the  sea. 

Though  a mariner  from  boyhood,  the  lofty  character  of 
Columbus,  raised  him  above  the  vices  of  the  seaman.  Swear- 
ing and  indecent  songs  he  abhorred.  He  drank  but  little 
wine.  He  disliked  games  of  chance.  He  despised  effeminate 
pleasures.  With  no  inclination  for  the  pleasures  of  the  table 
he  preserved  on  land  the  frugal  habits  of  shipboard.  He 
preferred  vegetable  food.  Water  sweetened  Avith  candy  sugar 
and  some  drops  of  orange-flower,  was  his  favorite  drink. 

His  punctuality  and  habits  of  order  were  also  remarkable. 
He  knew  the  value  of  time.  His  sense  of  duty — his  ener- 
getic nature,  and  well-balanced  character  prevented  him  from 
putting  off  till  to-morrow  what  could  be  done  to-day. 
Never  was  he  seen  acting  at  random,  or  outside  of  the  dic- 
tates of  duty  or  of  good  sense. 

His  goodness  of  heart  made  him  most  affectionate  to  his 
relatives  and  friends,  and  affable  to  those  about  him,  show- 
ing his  inferiors  the  kindness  of  superiority  graced  with  an 
urbanity  which  is  not  learned  on  shipboard.  His  simple  and 
flowing  language  harmonized  with  his  richness  of  thought 
The  ease  of  his  elocution,  the  graphic  turn  of  his  images,  his 
expressions,  often  hardy,  but  always  happy,  rendered  his 
conversation  attractive.  He  was,  in  short,  one  to  be  loved  by 
those  near  him.  Of  a singularly  resolute  and  enduring 
nature,  he  was  likewise  rapt  in  his  own  designs,  having  a 
ringing  forever  in  his  ears  of  bold  and  gigantic  projects. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


23 


He  was  naturally  hasty  and  inclined  to  anger.  But  this  im- 
pulse never  injured  any  one  save  himself.  Reflection — not 
less  sudden  than  the  transport — enabled  him  to  master  his 
feelings.  It  would  appear  that  this  extreme  irritability  of 
temper  was  given  him  as  a test,  an  occasion  to  strive  against 
himself;  to  subdue  his  natural  inclination,  to  overcome  this 
internal  obstacle  before  surmounting  exterior  ones.  Trials 
designed  to  produce  the  greatest  impatience  were  the  lot  of 
him  who  was  to  be  a model  of  patience  itself,  in  order  to  ac- 
complish his  ever-enduring  work. 

The  virtues  which  Columbus  had  learned  to  practice  at 
home  did  not  desert  him  on  the  ocean.  If  he  was  always  a 
gentleman,  neither  did  he  ever  forget  that  he  was  a Catholic. 
In  his  bright  and  thoughtful  mind,  God  and  Religion  held 
the  flrst  place.  “Throughout  his  life,”  writes  Irving,  “he 
was  noted  for  a strict  attention  to  the  offices  of  religion;  nor 
did  his  piety  consist  in  mere  forms,  but  partook  of  that  lofty 
and  solemn  enthusiasm  with  which  his  whole  character  was 
strongly  tinctured.” 

From  the  day  of  his  arrival  in  Lisbon,  Columbus  was  a 
regular  attendant  at  morning  Mass  in  the  Church  of  All 
Saints,  just  adjoining  a convent  of  nuns.  His  piety  and  the 
distinction  of  his  manners  were  remarked  even  through  the 
grating  of  the  cloister.  Among  the"  boarders  at  this  relig- 
ious institution  was  a noble  young  lady  named  Doha  Felippa 
de  Perestrello.  About  Columbus  there  w^as  a mysterious 
and  indescribable  something,  that  won  her  affection,  and 
tender  curiosity  invented  the  means  of  making  his  acquain- 
tance. This  pure  and  romantic  attachment  ended  in  mar- 
riage. But  neither  was  wealthy.  Miss  de  Perestrello’ s real 
riches  were  her  virtue,  beauty  and  accomplishments.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  an  eminent  Italian  navigator'  in  the  ser- 
vice of  Portugal,  who  died  governor  of  Porto  Santo,  but 


• This  was  Don  Bartholomew  de  Perestrello.  For  distinguished  sendees,  the  famous  Princs 
Henry  created  him  Governor  of  the  island  of  Porto  Santo,  and  bestowed  upon  him  large  estates 
there,  which  ruined  rather  than  enriched  him.  The  rabbits  were  so  numerous  that  they  literally 
ate  him  out,  playing  the  mischief  with  the  products  of  the  soil.  The  wife  of  Columbus  inherited 
a portion  of  those  unprodnetive  estates. 


24 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


who,  by  an  unhappy  reverse  of  fortune,  was  compelled  to 
leave  his  family  with  little  save  the  memory  of  an  honored 
name.  In  his  young  bride,  however,  Columbus  found  a cul- 
tured and  devoted  companion  who  lovingly  sympathized 
with  aU  his  plans. 


CHAPTER  11. 

THE  STRUGGLES  OF  GENIUS. 

Columbus  and  Alphonso  V. — The  growth  of  a great  idea — 
Basis  of  Columbus'  theory — Dr.  Toscanelli  and  Colum- 
bus— His  difficulties — Visits  his  native  city'  and  his 
Father — Portugal  treats  him  meanly — Death  of  his 
wife,  DohaFelippa — Directs  his  steps  to  Spain — Father 
Perez  and  Doctor  Hernandez — The  Convent  of  La  Ra- 
bida — Columbus  at  the  Spanish  Court — Father  de  Tala- 
vara — Second  marriage  of  Columbus — His  letter  to  King 
Ferdinand — Interview  with  the  Spanish  Sovereigns — 
The  Junta  of  Salamanca — His  Dominican  Friends — 
The  Moorish  War — Ferdinand  and  Isabella — He  never 
despairs  of  success — The  fall  of  Granada — He  is  about 
to  leave  Spain — The  turn  of  Fortune — Isabella  becomes 
his  patron — The  terrris  of  agreement — Final  prepara- 
tions. 

Columbus,  after  his  marriage,  was  invited  to  reside  in  the 
house  of  his  mother-in-law,  who  appears  to  have  been  a lady 
of  no  ordinary  piety  and  distinction.  To  gain  his  daily 
bread,  however,  he  continued  to  work  at  his  charts  and 
manuscripts.  But  he  was  now,  more  than  ever  before, 
brought  within  the  sphere  of  discovery.  His  alliance  with  an 
honorable  family  procured  him  access  to  the  highest  quarters. 
It  introduced  him  to  the  distinguished  men  of  the  Court, 
and  the  most  noted  scholars  of  Portugal. 

An  incident  attests  this  beyond  doubt.  King  Alphonsus 
V.,  though  not  engaged  in  maritime  expeditions,  still  from 
tradition  and  instinct,  interested  himself  about  naval  affairs, 
and  cheerfully  admitted  the  foreign  pilot  into  his  presence. 
He  was  delighted  with  the  conversation  of  Columbus,  who 

25 


26 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


often  spoke  to  him  of  the  natural  sciences  and  maritime  ad- 
ventures. One  day,  at  the  end  of  the  conversation  on  the 
usual  topic  of  discourse,  and  perhaps  to  confirm  the  Genoese 
in  his  ideas,  the  Portuguese  ruler  showed  him  some  reeds  of 
an  enormous  size,  unknown  to  any  climate  of  Europe.  A 
storm  had  driven  them  on  the  shore  of  the  Azores  where 
they  were  picked  up.  This  fact,  though  trifling,  is  sug- 
gestive. 

In  their  friendly  chattings,  his  mother-in-law,  struck  with 
his  desire  to  discover  unknown  countries,  recounted  the  life 
of  her  husband  to  Columbus.  Perestrello’s  notes  and  jour- 
nais  she  also  confided  to  him.  From  the  observations  they 
contained,  Columbus  soon  drew  a new  support  for  his  grad- 
ually maturing  project  of  exploring  the  earth,  and  especially, 
of  penetrating  the  great  and  unknown  ocean  which  stretched 
away  to  the  west.  Towards  this  grand  achievement  tended 
all  his  studies,  voyages,  and  researches.  Among  other 
things,  he  examined  the  progress  of  the  Portuguese  on 
the  coast  of  Guinea,  and  the  route  they  followed  to  arrive 
there.  Some  time  after,  he  embarked  with  his  wife  for  lier 
sterile  possessions  in  Porto  Santo,*  where  he  remained  for  a 
short  period.  It  was  there  that  James,  his  first  son,  was 
bom. 

“I  have  been  seeking  out  the  secrets  of  nature  for  forty 
years,”  wrote  Columbus  at  a later  pejiod  of  life,  “and 
wherever  ship  has  sailed  there  have  I voyaged.”  He  had 
doubtless  early  conceived  the  plan  of  examining  the  whole 
world.  About  the  fourth  year  of  his  sojourn  in  Portugal — 
1474 — it  was  already  developed  in  his  mind.  This  extraor- 
dinary man  was  never  inconsistant  with  himself.  In  the  ex- 
amination of  his  life  we  find  him  always  the  same.  That 
which  he  was  in  advanced  age,  he  was  in  his  youth. 

He  was  ever  a man  of  prompt  action  and  ready  wit,  keenly 
alive  to  tell  what  was  passing  around  him,  self-possessed  in 


> Porto  Santo  is  one  of  the  Madeira  islands.  Its  length  Is  eight  miles,  breadth  three  miles, 
and  in  184'2  its  population  was  6,000.  It  was  discovered  in  1418  by  the  Portuguese,  and  it  still  be- 
longs to  that  nation.  It  was  named  Porto  Santo — or  the  Holy  Port — because  the  discoverers 
happily  escaped  shipwreck  by  reaching  it.  This  was  the  first  of  the  Madeira  group  discovered. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


27 


danger,  and  fertile  in  resources;  but  he  was  not  the  less  on 
that  account  a great  reader,  a great  student,  and  a dreamer 
of  splendid  di’eams. 

He  was  possessed  of  all  the  cosmographical  knowledge  of 
his  time,  and  was  well  versed  in  all  the  books  which  were 
then  regarded  as  oracular  in  their  statements  about  the  lim- 
its of  the  habitable  globe.  He  had  pored  over  the  glow- 
ing pages  of  Marco  Polo  till  the  magnificent  vision  of 
Cipango  * and  Cathay ' — founded  upon  the  actual  wonders 
of  China  and  Japan — had  fastened  upon  his  soul;  and  he 
never  doubted  that  the  Grand  Khan  was  such  as  he  had  been 
depicted,  and  only  waited  the  summons  of  the  Catholic  sov- 
ereign to  be  baptized  with  all  his  people. 

The  continuous  current  of  Portuguese  discoveries  under 
Prince  Henry  and  others  had  excited  the  mind  of  Europe, 
and  must  have  had  no  little  influence  on  Columbus,  living, 
as  he  was,  in  the  midst  of  them.  This  may  be  said  without 
in  any  way  detracting  from  his  unequalled  merits  as  a great 
discoverer.  In  real  life  people  do  not  spring  from  shadows 
to  something  substantial,  as  people  in  sick  dreams.  A 
great  invention  or  discovery  is  often  like  a daring  leap,  but 
it  is  from  land  to  land — not  from  nothing  to  something. 

Fernando  Columbus  divides  into  three  classes  the  ground 
on  which  his  father's  theory  was  based;  namely,  reasons 
from  nature,  the  authority  of  writers,  and  the  testimony  of 
sailors.  He  believed  the  world  to  be  a sphere.  He  under- 
estimated its  size.  He  over-estimated  the  size  of  the  Asiatic 
continent.  The  further  that  continent  extended  to  the  east- 
ward, the  nearer  it  came  round  towards  Spain.  And  this,  in 
a greater  or  less  degree,  had  been  the  opinion  of  the  ancient 
geographers.  Both  Aristotle  and  Seneca  thought  that  a ship 
might  sail  “in  a few  days”  from  Cadiz  to  India.  Strabo, 
too,  believed  that  it  might  be  possible  to  navigate  on  the 
same  parallel  of  latitude,  due  west  from  the  coast  of  Africa 


* Cipango  is  the  name  given  to  a man'ellous  island  described  in  the  “ Voyages  ” of  Marco  Pol* 
the  famons  Venitian  traveler.  It  is  represented  as  lying  in  the  eastern  seas  some  1500  miles  frow 
laad,  and  of  its  beauty  and  wealth  many  stories  are  related. 

’ Cathay  is  simply  an  old  name  for  China.  It  owes  its  origin,  it  is  said,  to  Marco  Polo, 


28 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


or  Spain  to  that  of  India.  The  accounts  given  by  Marco 
Polo*  and  Sir  John  Mandeville’  of  their  explorations 
toward  China  confirmed  the  exaggerated  idea  of  the  extent 
of  Eastern  Asia. 

But  of  all  the  works  of  learned  men,  that  which,  accord- 
ing to  Fernando  Columbus,  had  most  weight  with  his 
father,  was  the  “ Cosmographia”  of  Cardinal  Aliaco.  It  is 
a singular  work.  Learned  arguments  are  interspersed  with 
the  most  wonderful  fables  of  lion-bodied  men  and  dog-faced 
women;  grave  and  often  very  sound  disquisitions  on  the 
earth’s  surface  are  mixed  up  with  the  wildest  stories  of  mon- 
sters and  salamanders,  of  giants  and  pigmies.  It  is  here 
that  we  find  the  original,  of  our  modern  romantic  acquaint- 
ance, the  sea-serpent,  described  as  being  “of  huge  size,  so 
that  he  kiUs  and  devours  large  stags,  and  is  able  to  cross 
the  ocean.”  ’ 

It  is,  indeed,  a curious  subject  for  meditation  that  the  con- 
jecture of  land  in  the  west  grew  out  of  a series  of  mistaken 
notions.  Because  Columbus  believed  the  earth  to  be  of 
smaller  circumference  than  it  really  is,  and  because  he  be- 
lieved that  the  land  covered  a larger  area  than  the  water, 
therefore  he  believed  that  the  eastern  extremity  of  Asia 
could  be  speedily  reached  by  sailing  west.  He  did  not  at 


• Marco  Polo,  a native  of  Venice,  In  the  thirteenth  century,  was  the  king  of  travelers  In  his  day. 
He  belonged  to  a noble  family,  and  according  to  the  custom  of  his  country,  engaged  early  in 
trade.  His  ardent  mind  sought  some  new  sphere  of  commercial  activity.  This  prompted'  him 
to  travel  into  unknown  countries.  He  continued  his  wanderings  in  Asia  for  upwards  of  twenty- 
six  years;  and  when  he  came  home  wrote  his  “ Travels,”  a book  that  astonished  all  Europe,  and 
was  afterwards  a great  favorite  with  Columbus. 

’ Sir  John  Mandeville  was  an  Englishman  and  a learned  physician  of  the  fourteenth  century. 
About  fifty  years  after  Marco  Polo''s  time,  Mande\ille  set  out  on  his  wanderings.  He  visited 
Turkey,  Armenia,  Egypt,  Syria,  Persia,  Chaldea.  Tartary,  and  the  Indies.  But  his  great  delight 
was  the  Holy  Land,  where  he  remained  for  a long  time  carefully  examining  every  trace  connected 
with  the  history  of  our  Blessed  Redeemer.  He  returned  to  England  after  an  absence  of  thirty- 
four  years.  Hisbookof  “Travels”  is  generally  considered  the  earliest  monument  of  English  prose. 
But  there  was  also  a Latin  edition.  Irving  says  this  work  bad  great  authority  ^vith  Columbus. 

Marco  Polo  and  Sir  John  Mandeville  were  both  pious  Catholics. 

> Cardinal  Peter  de  Aliaco.  Archbishop  of  Cambray,  was  bom  in  1340,  and  died  about  1435. 
He  was  the  author  of  many  works,  and  one  of  the  most  learned  and  scientific  men  of  his  day. 

While  making  researches  in  Seyille  in  the  Bibliotheca  Columbina— the  library  given  b)  Fer- 
nando Columbus  to  the  Cathedral  of  that  city— the  historian,  Washington  Irving,  discovered  the 
very  copy  of  Cardinal  Aliaco's  work  used  by  the  illustrious  discoverer  of  America.  Its  margins 
are  covered  with  notes  by  Columbus,  “ written  in  a very  small  but  neat  and  distinct  hand.” 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


29 


that  time  contemplate  the  possibility  of  an  intervening  con- 
tinent; and  it  was  the  false  idea  that  only  about  one-third 
of  the  circumference  of  the  earth  remained  untraversed 
which  induced  him  to  plunge  boldly  into  the  great  ocean. 
He  sought  Asia,  but  he  found  America. 

In  1474  we  find  Columbus  in  correspondence  with  Dr. 
Paul  Toscanelli,  a learned  physician  of  Florence,  who  was  a 
kind  of  grand  referee  to  the  explorers  and  cosmographers 
of  his  time,  and  was  highly  esteemed  at  Rome.  A letter 
from  the  Florentine  philosopher  to  Columbus,  dated  June 
25th,  1474,  is  extant,  in  which  he  shows  lively  interest  in 
the  proposal  of  Columbus  to  sail  westward,  and  gives  him 
much  singular  information,  with  amusing  assurance,  just  as 
if  he  were  speaking  of  known  truths,  and  takes  notice  of 
his  ardent  desire  to  spread  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  To 
Toscanelli,  on  the  whole,  much  credit  is  due  for  the  encour- 
agement he  gave  that  colossal  enterprise  which  led  to  the 
discovery  of  a new  world.  * 

But  that  the  notices  of  western  land  were  not  such  as  to 
have  much  weight  with  other  men  is  sufficiently  proved  by 
the  difficulty  which  Columbus  had  in  contending  with  ad- 
verse geographers  and  men  of  science  in  general,  of  whom 
he  says,  he  never  was  able  to  convince  any  one.  After  a 
new  world  had  been  discovered,  many  scattered  indications 
were  then  found  to  have  foreshown  it.  “When  he  prom- 
ised a new  hemisphere,”  wrote  Voltaire,  “people  main- 
tained that  it  could  not  exist;  and  when  he  had  discovered 
it,  that  it  had  been  known  a long  time ! ” 

When  the  great  resolve,  however,  was  once  taken  by 
Columbus  to  reduce  speculation  to  practice  by  an  actual 
voyage,  never  more  was  it  laid  aside. 

This  was  the  real  point  of  departure  in  the  discovery  of 
America,  not  that  other  moment  when  Ferdinand  and  Isa- 
bella signed  the  conditions  conferring  the  Vice-Royalty  of 

' This  famous  Catholic  physician  also  sent  a map  with  his  letter,  in  which  was  traced  a route 
to  India  across  the  Atlantic.  This  map,  hy  which  Columbus  sailed  on  his  first  voyage  of  discov- 
ery, Les  Casas  says,  he  had  in  his  possession  at  the  time  of  writing  his  history.  It  is  greatly  to 
be  regretted  that  so  interesting  a document  shouid  be  lost.  It  may  yet  exist  among  voo  chaotia 
lumber  of  the  Spanish  archives. — Irving. 


30 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


the  Indies  on  him  and  his  heirs,  nor  yet  the  moment  when 
he  set  sail  with  an  unwilling  crew  of  conscript  sailors  from 
Palos.  The  idea  never  went  from  his  mind;  it  only  gained 
strength  from  rebuffs  and  delays,  cold  answers  and  cruel 
evasions.  We  see  the  grandeur  of  mind  of  Columbus  best 
in  those  eighteen  years  of  weary  waiting  and  hoping  against 
hope,  when  heaven  and  earth  seemed  to  conspire  against 
him,  when  opinions  were  divided  about  him,  and  some  con- 
sidered him  a dangerous  lunatic,  and  some  more  than  half  a 
heretic,  and  even  his  well-wishers  for  the  most  part  thought 
that  he  indulged  in  miuih  unprofitable  dreaming,  while  all 
the  time  he  saw  and  felt  the  vigorous  years  of  his  manhood 
waning  fast,  and  death  perhaps  approaching  to  carry  him 
away  with  his  mighty  purpose  unfulfilled. 

But  with  the  thoughts  of  Columbus  there  ever  mingled  a 
deep  religious  sentiment,  giving  them  a tinge  of  sublimity. 
He  looked  upon  himself  as  standing  in  the  hand  of  Heaven, 
chosen  from  among  men  for  the  accomplishment  of  a high 
purpose.  He  read,  as  it  seems,  his  contemplated  discovery 
foretold  in  the  Holy  Book,  and  shadowed  forth  darkly  in 
the  prophecies,  wherein  it  was  declared  that  the  ends  of  the 
earth  should  be  brought  together,  and  all  nations  and 
tongues  and  languages,  united  under  the  banner  of  the  Re- 
deemer; and,  perhaps,  something  within  him  also  whispered 
that  he  would  not  die  till  he  had  carried  the  knowledge  of 
Grod  across  the  great  and  gloomy  waters. 

The  long  and  painful  preparatory  efforts  of  Columbus  to 
interest  Europe  in  his  mighty  enterprise  would,  at  this  day, 
seem  almost  incredible.  To  find  a continent  he  besought 
kings  and  nations  for  a ship  or  two,  and  they  refused  him. 
With  true  patriotism  he  made  his  first  application  to  the 
senate  of  his  native  Genoa.  It  was  refused.  The  idea  was 
too  new  to  be  grasped  by  the  senators  of  the  “City  by  the 
sea ;”  and  they  pleaded  the  poverty  of  their  exchequer,  and 
even  denied  Columbus  the  praise  of  originality.  It  was 
written,  they  said,  in  the  archives  of  their  city  that  two  no- 
ble captains,  two  hundred  years  before,  had  sailed  for  the 
west,  and  never  were  heard  of  again. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


31 


Our  hero  turned  to  V enice.  A polite  refusal  was  his  only 
answer. 

From  Venice  he  paid  a visit  to  his  father  at  Savona  in 
1476,  and  from  his  own  slender  means  did  his  best  to  help 
the  old  man,  then  seventy  years  of  age,  and  weighed  down 
by  accumulated  misfortunes. 

He  next  directed  his  steps  to  Lisbon.  Portugal  was  at 
that  time  under  John  II.,  an  active  and  enterprising  prince; 
and  when  Vasco  de  Gama,  the  famous  Portuguese  naviga- 
tor was  on  the  point  of  discovering  the  sea  route  to  India  by 
rounding  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  Columbus,  convinced  that 
he  could  find  a wider  and  more  direct  path  by  going  straight 
forward  towards  the  west,  obtained  after  a tedious  applica- 
tion, an  audience  of  the  king,  in  order  to  unfold,  once  more, 
his  projects  of  discovery,  and  solicit  the  means  of  carrying 
them  out  for  the  advantage  of  the  state.* 

John  listened  with  interest.  Struck  with  the  boldness  of 
the  scheme,  he  referred  it  to  a junto  of  men  of  science.  It 
was  treated  by  them  with  contempt,  as  extravagant  and 
visionary.  The  king,  however,  w'as  not  satisfied  with  their 
decision.  He  desired  the  opinion  of  his  privy-counselors, 
among  whom  were  some  of  the  most  learned  men  of  the 
kingdom.  Their  opinion  was  equallj”  unfavorable  with  that 
of  the  junto.  Certain  of  the  counsellors,  however,  seeing 
tliat  the  liing  still  retained  an  inclination  for  the  enterprise, 
devised  a plan  by  which  it  might  be  secretly  put  to  the  test, 
without  publicly  committing  the  dignity  of  the  crown,  in 
what  they  considered  a mere  fantasy.  Procuring  from  Col- 
umbus a detailed  plan  of  his  proposed  voyage,  and  the 
charts  by  which  he  intended  to  shape  his  course,  they  pri- 
vately dispatched  a caravel,  or  small  vessel,  to  pursue  the 
designated  route. 


> Reflections  upon  the  uncertainty,  the  danger,  and  tedionsness  of  that  course  which  the  Portu- 
guese were  pursuing,  naturally  led  Columbus  to  consider  whether  a shorter  and  more  direct  passage 
to  the  East  Indies  might  not  be  found  out.  After  revohing  long  and  seriously  every  circumstance 
suggested  by  his  superior  knowledge  in  the  theory,  as  well  as  practice  of  navigation;  after  com- 
paring attentively  the  obseivations  of  modem  pilots  with  the  hints  and  conjectures  of  ancient 
authors,  he  at  last  concluded,  that  by  sailing  directly  towards  the  west,  across  the  Atlantic  ocean, 
new  countries,  which  probably  formed  a part  of  the  great  continent  of  India,  must  infallibly  be 
discovered. — SoberUon. 


32 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


The  caravel  took  its  departure  from  the  Cape  de  Verde 
islands,  and  stood  westward  for  several  days.  The  weather 
grew  stormy;  the  pilots,  having  no  zeal  to  stimulate  them, 
and  seeing  nothing  but  a waste  of  wild  tumbling  waves  still 
extending  before  them,  lost  all  courage,  and  returned  to 
Lisbon,  ridiculing  the  project  as  extravagant  and  irrational. 
But  it  was  not  an  enterprise  to  be  carried  out  successfully  • 
by  men  who  had  only  stolen  the  idea  of  it.  It  required  the 
dauntless  spirit  of  a true  hero  to  triumph  over  the  terrors  of 
the  Atlantic  and  cut  his  way  to  a new  hemisphere! 

When  Columbus  learned  the  base  attempt  that  had  been 
made  to  defraud  him  of  his  enterprise,  he  renounced  all 
further  negotiations  with  the  crown  of  Portugal.  And  as  if 
to  add  to  his  trials,  at  this  time,  death  snatched  away  his 
dear  Dona  Felippa,  his  love  and  his  consolation.  She  was 
that  sweet  and  noble  companion  whose  smiles,  like  rays  of 
sunlight,  had  illumined  his  poor  home,  lit  up  his  lonely 
path,  and  encouraged  all  his  grand  enterprises;  but  now  she. 
was  no  more  in  this  world.  “Columbus,”  writes  the  Count 
de  Lorgues,  “remained  silent  and  looked  up  to  Heaven.” 

The  death  of  his  wife  dissolved  the  last  tie  that  bound  him 
to  Portugal.  Taking  his  little  son,  James,  by  the  hand,  he 
shook  the  very  dust  from  his  feet,  and  turned  his  back  upon 
a country  which  had  treated  him  with  such  meanness  and 
little  faith.  This  was  at  the  close  of  the  year  1484. 

He  sailed  at  once  for  Genoa,  and  solicitously  pressed  his 
offer  for  the  second  time  upon  the  Government  of  his  native 
city,  but  the  fleet  of  the  Republic  was  required  for  home 
service  and  not  a vessel  could  be  spared.  It  was  at  this 
time  he  took  the  little  James  to  see  his  grandfather. 

Columbus  now  cast  his  eyes  around  the  European 
thrones.  The  Christian  spirit  of  Spain  and  her  power  on 
sea  seemed  to  hold  out  hope  of  the  help  he  sought.”  His 
arrival  in  Spain  is  scarcely  less  mysterious  than  his  flrst 


’ Ab  he  had  already  experienced  the  uncertain  issue  of  application  to  kings  and  ministers,  he 
took  the  precaution  of  sending  into  England  his  brother  Bartholomew,  to  whom  he  had  fully  com- 
municated his  ideas,  in  order  that  he  might  negotiate,  at  the  same  time,  with  Henry  who 
was  reputed  one  of  the  most  sagacieus  as  well  as  opulent  princes  in  Europe. — BoberUon. 


COLUMBUS  PLANNING  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  AMERICA. 


! 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


33 


landing  in  Portugal.  He  is  first  heard  of  as  a wanderer  ask- 
ing for  a little  bread  at  the  gate  of  the  Franciscan  Convent 
of  La  Rabida,  close  to  the  small  sea- port  town  of  Palos,  in 
Andalusia.  He  had  his  dear  little  boy  with  him,  and  was 
on  his  way  to  Huelva  to  see  a sister-in-law,  with  whom,  in 
spite  of  her  poverty,  he  no  doubt,  wished  to  leave  the  child. 

Father  John  Perez,  the  Guardian  of  the  Convent,  found 
his  friend.  Dr.  Garcia  Hernandez,  the  physician  of  the 
' house,  in  conversation  with  the  stranger  on  the  porch.  Some 
good  angel  had  certainly  guided  Columbus  to  La  Rabida, 
for  Father  Perez  was  no  ordinary  man.  There  was  scarcely 
another  in  Spain  so  well  prepared  by  nature  and  study  to 
appreciate  the  great  thoughts  of  that  singular  mendicant. 

Father  Perez  had  been  the  confessor  of  Queen  Isabella, 
but  a Court  life  was  less  to  his  liking  than  retirement  and 
study.  His  love  for  mathematics  and  cosmography  was 
only  the  handmaid  of  his  zeal  for  souls.  He  longed  for  the 
discovery  of  new  lands,  in  order  that  Christ  might  be 
preached  to  more  men,  and  with  him,  as  with  Columbus  at 
Porto  Santo,  the  place  of  his  abode  was  well  suited  to  feed 
his  restless  imagination  and  his  Christian  hopes.  He  had 
built  a kind  of  observatory  on  the  roof  of  his  monastery, 
and  he  spent  much  of  his  spare  time  in  contemplating  the 
stars  by  night  and  the  sea  by  day.  Did  that  wide  and  gloomy 
ocean  really  bound  the  world,  or  had  it  a further  shore  with 
races  of  men  to  be  evangelized?  There  was  infinite  room 
for  speculation  where  all  was  conjecture.  Some  cosmog- 
raphers  thought  that  it  could  be  sailed  across  in  three 
years,  and  some  thought  it  was  of  indefinite  extent.  Father 
Perez  had  reached  the  advanced  stage  of  venturing  to  doubt 
the  impracticability  of  a voyage  across,  when  Columbus  ap- 
peared at  his  convent  gate,  and  soon  the  doubt  of  an  alleged 
impossibility  gave  place  to  the  ardent  desire  of  an  actual 
accomplishment. 

From  the  first  the  Father  Guardian  was  a good  friend. 
He  made  Columbus  live  at  his  convent  till  a favorable  op- 
portunity should  present  itself  for  laying  his  plans  before 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella;  and  we  cannot  doubt  that  it  was  at 


34 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


this  period  of  his  life  that  the  future  great  discoverer  ac- 
quired that  astonishing  acquaintance  with  theology  and  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church  which  must  have  seemed  to  the  bish- 
ops and  doctors  of  the  Junta  of  Salamanca  a curious  result 
of  a sailor’s  education.  There  is  no  record  however,  of  his 
conventual  life,  for  most  unfortunately  the  archives  of  La 
Rabida  perished  utterly  in  some  revolution  of  the  present 
century,  the  library  being  pillaged  and  the  manuscripts  de- 
stroyed, and  the  convent  itself  was  finally  abandoned  on  the 
suppression  of  religious  houses  in  1834;  but  it  is  no  unfair 
surmise  that  he  spent  his  time  in  religious  preparation  for 
his  great  work. ' 

Father  Perez  had  an  influential  friend  at  Court,  a Hier- 
onymite.  Father  Ferdinand  de  Talavera,  Prior  of  Our  Lady 
of  Prado  at  Valladolid,  Confessor  to  the  King  and  Queen,  a 
priest  of  learning  and  virtue;  and  he  felt  that  in  recom- 
mending Columbus  to  the  intercession  of  such  a man,  he 
was  almost  ensuring  the  successful  issue  of  his  application. 
But  the  learning  of  the  Prior  of  Prado  was  not  in  the  cos- 
mographical  line,  and  he  was  at  all  times  unwilling  to  push 
his  right  of  patronage. 

The  letter  of  Father  Perez,  it  seems,  only  served  to  show 
that  he  himself  had  too  readily  assented  to  the  dreams  of 
this  unknown  enthusiast,  and  Talavera  had  no  mind  to 
assist  the  delusion,  He  listened  with  perfect  politeness  to 
the  explaftations  of  Columbus,  but  he  did  not  intend  at 
that  time, more  particularly,  when  the  attention  of  the  sov- 
ereigns was  concentrated  on  the  Moorish  war,  to  allow  any 
idle  dreams  to  molest  their  sacred  ears.  Columbus  was 
helpless,  and  had  to  fall  back  upon  caligraphy  and  map- 
making  for  his  support.  This  was  at  Cordova,  where  the 
sovereigns,  always  in  movement,  happened  then  to  be. 

It  was  during  this  painful  suspense  that  Columbus  mar- 
ried a young  lady  of  rank,  Doha  Beatrix  Enriquez,  who 
became  the  mother  of  his  son,  and  future  biographer, 
Fernando. 


* The  Duke  of  Montpeneier  in  1854  undertook  the  restoration  of  the  monastery  and  the  church. 
The  cell  of  the  Father  Guardian  was  especially  cared  for. — Father  Knight,  S.  J. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


36 


‘'She  was,”  writes  DeLorgnes,  “of  high  descent.  Her 
birth  far  surpassed  her  fortune,  and  her  beauty,  her  birth. 
She  was  named  Beatrix.  This  name  so  much  loved  by 
Dante,  seemed  to  have  been  made  for  an  Italian.  Dona 
Beatrix  Enriquez  belonged  to  the  noble  house  of  Arana, 
one  of  the  most  ancient  families  of  Cordovo,  in  which  virtue 
was  transmitted  by  right  of  birth,  and  which,  notwithstand- 
ing its  little  opulence,  enjoyed  that  respectability  which 
riches  alone  can  never  confer.” 

This  young  lady  would  not  have  been  willing  to  marry 
a poor  man  and  a foreigner,  who  to  less  generous  souls 
appeared  no  better  than  a needy  adventurer  or  an  eccen- 
tric visionary,  unless  she  had  received  from  Heaven  un- 
usual power  of  discerning  real  merit;  and  she  would  never 
have  carried  into  effect  the  marriage  with  Columbus  in  the 
face  of  all  the  opposition  and  ridicule  which  she  could  not 
fail  to  encounter  from  her  kinsmen  of  the  powerful  Arana 
family,  unless  she  had  been  endowed  with  that  lofty  spirit 
and  strong  will,  which  are  unknown  to  cold  and  feeble  na- 
tures. Poverty  and  anxiety  could  never  vulgarize  Col- 
umbus, and  a noble,  kind-hearted,  and  somewhat  romantic 
girl  might  easily  find  him  worth  loving. 

His  marriage  did  not  change  his  plans.  When  he  found 
that  Talavera  was  a hindrance,  not  a help,  he  wrote  with  his 
own  hand  a characteristic  letter  to  the  king. 

“Most  Serene  Prince; 

I have  been  engaged  in  navigation  from  my  youth. 
For  nearly  forty  years  have  I voyaged  on  the  seas.  I have 
visited  nearly  all  the  known  quarters  of  the  world,  and  have 
conversed  with  a great  number  of  learned  men — ivdth  eccles- 
iastics, seculars,  Latins,  Greeks,  and  persons  of  all  kinds  of 
religion.  I have  acquired  some  knowledge  of  navigation, 
astronomy,  and  geometry;  and  am  sufficiently  expert  in  de- 
signing the  chart  of  the  earth,  to  place  the  cities,  rivers,  and 
mountains  in  their  correct  situations.  To  the  study  of  works 
on  cosmography,  history  and  philosophy,  I have  also  ap- 
plied myself.  At  present,  I feel  strongly  urged  to  undertake 


36 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


the  discovery  of  the  Indies;  and  I come  to  your  Highnes* 
to  supplicate  you  to  favor  my  enterprise.  That  those  who 
hear  it  will  turn  it  into  ridicule,  I doubt  not;  but  if  your 
Highness  will  give  me  the  means  of  executing  it,  let  the 
obstacles  be  what  they  may,  I hope  to  be  able  to  make  it 
succeed.” 

In  this  style,  firm,  manly,  concise,  and  straightforward — 
a style  in  which  facts  take  the  place  of  words — we  see  shin- 
ing forth  the  solid  mind  of  Christopher  Columbus. 

Of  this  letter  no  notice  was  taken.  He  succeeded,  how- 
ever, in  making  the  acquaintance  of  Antonio  Geraldini,  for- 
merly Papal  Nuncio,  who  at  the  Queen’s  request  had  re- 
turned to  Spain  to  be  tutor  to  her  eldest  daughter,  and  was 
by  him  introduced  to  the  great  Cardinal  Mendoza,  Grand 
Chancellor  of  Castile. 

The  keen  eye  of  Mendoza  recognized  at  once  the  extraor- 
dinary merit  of  Columbus,  and  he  felt  it  a duty  to  obtain  for 
him  an  audience. 

Notwithstanding  the  poorness  of  his  dress,  and  his  foreign 
accent,  Columbus  appeared  before  the  sovereigns  of  Spain, 
vuthout  hesitation  or  awkwardness.  The  native  dignity  of 
his  air  and  the  grace  of  his  deportment,  together  with  the 
noble  familiarity  of  his  language,  won  their  attention.  He 
spoke  with  the  confidence  of  one  who  brings  his  masters 
more  than  they  can  give  him  in  return.  “ In  thinking  what 
I was,”  he  wrote  at  a later  period,  “I was  overwhelmed  vuth 
humility;  but  in  remembering  what  I brought,  I found  my- 
self equal  to  crowned  heads.  I was  no  longer  myself,  but 
the  instrument  of  God,  chosen  and  marked  out  to  accom- 
plish a vast  design.” 

He  spoke  to  them  of  “serving  our  Lord,  spreading  the 
knowledge  of  His  name  and  the  light  of  faith  among  many 
nations.”  He  had  held  out  temporal  motives  to  tempt 
Genoa  and  Venice,  promising  to  lead  their  merchants  by  a 
shorter  path  to  the  spice-groves  of  the  eastern  world.  Per- 
haps he  thought  that  Isabella  was  less  mercenary,  or  per- 
haps his  stay  with  the  Franciscans  had  made  him  more 
unworldly.  Now,  the  service  of  God  evidently  held  the 


CHBISTOPEER  COLUMBUS. 


37 


first  place  in  his  esteem,  and  that  is  a point  too  lightly 
passed  over  by  most  writers  on  Columbus.  Isabella  seems 
from  that  moment  to  have  entertained  an  enthusiastic  es- 
teem for  Columbus.  She  was  his  Mend  for  life. 

Ferdinand,  with  his  usual  caution,  commissioned  Talavera  • 
to  call  a council  of  learned  men  to  examine  into  the  case. 
The  court  was  then  at  Salamanca,  a place  of  great  learning. 
To  the  council  were  summoned  all  the  men  of  science  of  the 
University  of  Salamanca,'  professors  present  and  past.  They 
met  in  the  Dominican  Convent  of  St.  Stephen."  Father  John 
Perez,  unhappily,  was  not  one  of  the  board,  and  the  chief 
cosmographer  of  Spain,  James  Ferrer,  the  learned  lapidary 
of  Burgos,  was  absent  in  the  East. 

Talavera  was  not  quite  the  president  Columbus  would 
have  chosen,  and  all  came  disposed  to  judge  harshly  of  a 
man  who, in  his  pride,  preferred  his  own  conclusions  to  the 
united  learning  of  mankind.  As  every  body  knows,  many 
silly  objections  were  made.  Texts  from  Scripture  and  the 
Fathers  were  quoted  to  disprove  the  roundness  of  the  earth, 
and  the  existence  of  men  with  their  feet  above  their  heads. 
Some  thought,  with  Seneca,  that  the  ocean  might  turn  out  to 
be  infinite;  some  were  inclined  to  judge  by  appearance,  and 
deemed  it  possible  to  descend  the  western  slope,  but  hope- 
less to  climb  up  the  hill  of  waters  on  the  voyage  back.  In 
short,  too  many  of  the  learned  commissioners  showed  a 
great  deal  of  childish  confusion  of  thought  upon  subjects 
which  had  formed  no  part  of  their  studies.  As  his  son  Fer- 
nando drily  remarks,  “The  more  powerful  the  Admiral’s 
reasons  were,  the  less  they  understood  them  through  their 
ignorance;  for  when  a man  grows  old  upon  ill  principles  in 
mathematics,  he  cannot  conceive  the  true  cause  of  the  false 
notions  imprinted  in  his  mind.” 

Columbus  was  likewise  a little  hampered  in  his  answers 
by  his  resolve  not  to  be  too  minute  in  relating  his  plans 
for  fear  of  exposing  himself  a second  time  to  the  perfid- 


• At  that  time,  nearly  8,009  stndenta  had  their  namea  regigtered  on  the  books  of  the  University, 
of  Salamanca. 


* It  was  in  November,  1486. 


38 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


ious  treatment  he  had  experienced  from  King  John  of 
Portugal;  but  he  displayed  marvellous  erudition  of  an 
unexpected  kind,  and  seemed  to  have  the  writings  of 
the  philosophers  and  Fathers  of  the  Church  at  ready 
command. 

His  sense  of  the  grandeur  and  the  sacredness  of  the  cause 
for  which  he  pleaded,  increased  the  native  dignity  of  his  de- 
meanor; and,  when  from  technical  replies  he  passed  to  the 
exposition  and  elucidation  of  the  great  thought  which  pos- 
sessed his  soul,  he  rose  at  once  to  the  full  sublimity  of  the 
theme,  and  in  words  to  which  strong  conviction,  based  upon 
human  study  and  completed  by  supernatural  faith,  gave 
force  and  beauty,  he  tried  to  show  that  his  proposal  was  in 
harmony  with  the  mind  of  the  Church,  and  he  claimed  for 
it  the  sanction  of  prophecy.  His  eloquence  and  learning 
took  his  judges  by  surprise,  but  he  quite  failed  to  convince 
the  greater  part  of  them;  for  it  was  not  to  be  expected  that 
a lifelong  prejudice  of  learned  men  would  yield  to  a few 
sensible  and  well-directed  words. 

The  Dominican  Fathers,  in  whose  house  the  conferences 
were  held,  were  almost  alone  in  their  favorable  judgment  of 
his  cause;  and  they  also,  though  the  examination  lasted  long, 
generously  entertained  him  all  the  time,  and  even  paid  the 
expenses  of  his  journey.  Father  Diego  de  Deza,  O P., 
their  first  Professor  of  Theology,  was  completely  convinced 
by  the  reasoning  of  Columbus,  and  gained  over  the  leading 
men  of  the  University.  But  the  majority  voted  the  project 
chimerical,  while  the  rest  thought  it  scarcely  practical,  and 
the  council  broke  up  with  no  very  definite  declaration  at 
the  time.  Before  the  council  dispersed  the  Court  had  left 
Salamanca. 

One  consequence,  at  all  events,  was  the  increased  consid- 
eration for  a man  who  had  given  so  much  trouble.  He  was 
regarded  henceforth  as  an  important  person.  Several  times 
he  was  summoned  to  court,  his  expenses  being  paid.  This 
is  seen  in  the  accounts  of  the  royal  treasurer.  At  the  date 
of  May  5th,  1487,  we  read:  “Pay  Christopher  Columbus,  a 
foreigner.,  three  thousand  maravides,  for  things  done  in  the 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


39 


service  of  their  Highnesses.”'  On  the  third  of  June  follow- 
ing, we  find  that  an  equal  sum  was  paid  him  by  the  treas- 
urer Gonzales. 

But  nothing  further  was  done.  For  Columbus  it  was  an 
unpropitious  time.  Far  from  dreaming  of  the  conquest  of 
some  problematic  regions  beyond  unknown  seas,  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  were  engrossed  in  recovering  their  own  domin- 
ions from  the  Moors.  These  victorious  Mussulmen,  after  a 
long  and  prosperous  possession,  beheld  themselves  stripped, 
one  by  one,  of  the  towns  and  provinces  they  had  appropri- 
ated as  their  own.  In  spite  of  their  exploits  they  were  every- 
where defeated,  and  were  now  compelled  to  occupy  the  moun- 
tains and  valleys  around  Granada,  the  Capital  and  wonder 
of  their  empire.  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  employed  aU  their 
powers,  all  their  efforts,  and  the  resources  of  their  united 
kingdoms  to  wrest  from  the  Moors  the  citadel  of  Spain. 

United  by  a marriage  of  policy  which  love  had  sealed,  and 
which  was  radiant  with  a common  glory,  the  one  had  brought 
the  Kingdom  of  Arragon,  the  other  that  of  Castile  as  a mar- 
riage portion  to  this  union  of  crowns.  But  although  the 
King  and  Queen,  had  blended  their  separate  provinces  into 
one  country,  they  yet  preserved  a distinct  and  independent 
dominion  over  their  hereditary  kingdoms.  They  had  each 
a council  and  ministers  for  the  separate  interests  of  their 
ancient  personal  subjects.  These  councils  were  only  united 
in  one  common  government  when  patriotic  interests  com- 
mon to  the  two  Kingdoms  and  the  two  sovereigns  were  at 
stake. 

Ferdinand,  a little  older  than  Isabella,  was  an  able  politi- 
cian and  an  accomplished  soldier.  Before  that  age  when 
by  experience  man  learns  to  know  men,  he  had  already  di- 
vined them.  His  greatest  fault  was  a certain  coldness  which 
sprung  from  mistrust,  and  which  closed  his  heart  to  enthus- 
iasm and  magnanimity. 

His  royal  companion,  however,  more  truly  deserves  our  at- 
tention and  our  admiration.  Of  all  the  illustrious  women  of 


• The  title  at  that  time  given  to  the  sovereigns  of  Spain. 


40 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


history,  Isabella  alone  is  honored  with  the  beautiful  title 
of  The  Catholic  in  consideration  of  her  greatness  and  illus- 
trious piety.  In  the  annals  of  the  past,  hers  is  one  of  the 
brightest  names. 

In  person  she  was  of  the  middle  height,  and  well  propor- 
tioned. She  had  a clear,  fresh  complexion,  with  light  blue 
eyes  and  auburn  hair — a style  of  beauty  exceedingly  rare  in 
Spain.  Her  features  were  regular  and  uncommonly  beauti- 
ful. The  illusion  which  attaches  to  rank,  more  especially 
when  united  with  engaging  manners,  might  lead  us  to  sus- 
pect some  exaggeration  in  the  praises  so  liberally  lavished 
on  her.  But  they  would  seem  to  be  in  a great  measure  jus- 
tified by  the  portraits  that  remain  of  her,  which  combine  a 
faultless  symmetry  of  features  with  singular  sweetness  and 
intelligence  of  expression.* 

Her  manners  were  most  gracious  and  pleasing.  They 
were  marked  by  natural  dignity  and  modest  reserve,  tem- 
pered by  an  affability  which  flowed  from  the  kindness  of  her 
disposition.  She  was  the  last  person  to  be  approached  with 
undue  familiarity;  yet  the  respect  which  she  imposed  was 
mingled  with  the  strongest  feelings  of  devotion  and  love. 
She  showed  great  tact  in  accommodating  herself  to  the  pecu- 
liar situation  and  character  of  those  around  her.  She  ap- 
peared in  arms  at  the  head  of  her  troops,  and  shrunk  from 
none  of  the  hardships  of  war.  During  the  reforms  intro- 
duced into  the  religious  houses,  she  visited  the  nunneries  in 
person,  taking  her  needle -work  with  her,  and  passing  the 
day  in  the  society  of  the  inmates.  In  short,  she  gained  an  as- 

■ Contemporary  authors  have  been  enthusiastic  in  their  description  of  Isabella,  but  time  has 
sanctioned  their  eulogies.  She  is  one  of  the  purest  and  most  beautiful  characters  in  the  pages  of 
history. — Irving. 

Methinks  I can  still  see  her  beautiful  majestic  face — with  broad  brow,  and  clear  honest  loving 
eye — as  it  looks  down  upon  the  beholder  from  one  of  the  chapels  in  the  Cathedral  of  Granada:  a 
conntenance  too  expressive  and  individual  to  be  what  painters  give  as  that  of  an  angel,  and  yet 
the  next  thing  to  it.— Sir  Artkvr  Helps. 

Isabella  was  the  Imng  personification  of  the  chivalrous  genius  of  her  time  and  of  her  nation. 
No  lady  on  the  throne  joined  a more  sincere  faith  to  a most  consummate  prudence,  or  shone 
there  with  a more  nnaffected  loyalty.  A kind  of  benediction  appeared  manifestly  to  attend  her 
projects  as  well  as  her  acts.  She  conld  always  do  when  she  willed  and  she  always  willed  when  she 
could  do.  Success  crowned  all  her  undertakings.  While  surrounding  herself  for  her  service 
with  persons  of  the  highest  capacity  and  of  sincere  devotedness,  God  willed  that  the  w isdom  of 
her  counsels  should  still  surpass  that  of  her  counsellors. — Count  de  Lorgues. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


cendency  over  her  turbulent  subjects  which  no  king  of  Spain 
could  ever  boast. 

She  spoke  the  Castilian  language  with  elegance  and  cor- 
rectness. She  had  an  easy  pliancy  of  discourse,  which  though 
generally  of  a serious  complexion,  was  occasionally  seasoned 
with  agreeable  sallies,  some  of  which  have  passed  into 
proverbs.  She  was  most  temperate  in  her  diet  seldom  or 
never  tasting  wine;  and  so  frugal  in  her  table  that  the  daily 
expenses  for  herself  and  family  did  not  exceed  the  moderate 
sum  of  forty  ducats.  She  was  equally  simple  and  economi- 
cal in  her  apparel.  On  all  public  occasions,  indeed,  she  dis- 
played a royal  magnificence;  but  she  had  no  relish  for  it  in 
private,  and  she  freely  gave  away  her  clothes  and  jewels  as 
presents  to  her  friends.  Naturally  of  a sedate,  though 
cheerful  temper,  she  had  little  taste  for  the  frivolous  amuse- 
ments which  make  up  so  much  of  a court  life;  and,  if  she  en- 
couraged the  presence  of  minstrels  and  musicians  in  her  pal- 
ace, it  was  to  wean  her  young  nobility  from  the  coarser  and 
less  intellectual  pleasures  to  which  they  were  addicted. 

Among  her  moral  qualities,  the  most  conspicuous,  per- 
haps, was  her  magnanimity.  She  betrayed  nothing  little  or 
selfish  in  thought  or  action.  Her  schemes  were  vast,  and 
executed  in  the  same  noble  spirit,  in  which  they  were  con- 
ceived. She  never  employed  doubtful  agents  or  sinister 
measures,  but  the  most  direct  and  open  policy.  She  scorned 
to  avail  herself  of  advantages  offered  by  the  perfidy  of 
others.  Where  she  had  once  given  her  confidence,  she 
gave  her  hearty  and  steady  support,  and  she  was  scrupulous 
to  redeem  any  pledge  she  had  made  to  those  who  ventured 
in  her  cause,  however  unpopular.  She  sustained  Cardinal 
Ximenes  in  all  his  obnoxious,  but  salutary  reforms.  She 
seconded  Columbus  in  the  prosecution  of  his  arduous  enter- 
prise, and  shielded  him  from  the  calumny  of  his  enemies. 
She  was  incapable  of  harboring  any  petty  distrust,  or  latent 
malice;  and  although  stern  in  the  execution  and  exaction  of 
public  justice,  she  made  the  most  generous  allowance,  and 
even  sometimes  advances,  to  those  who  had  personally  in- 
jured her. 


42 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


But  the  principle,  which  gave  a peculiar  coloring  to  every 
feature  of  Isabella’s  mind,  was  piety.  It  shone  forth  from 
the  very  depths  of  her  soul  with  a heavenly  radiance,  which 
illuminated  her  whole  character.  Fortunately,  her  earliest 
years  had  been  passed  in  the  rugged  school  of  adversity,  un- 
der the  eye  of  a mother,  who  implanted  in  her  serious  mind 
such  strong  principles  of  religion  as  nothing  in  after  life  had 
power  to  shake.  At  an  early  age,  in  the  flower  of  youth 
and  beauty,  she  was  introduced  to  her  brother’s  court;  but 
its  blandishments,  so  dazzling  to  a young  imagination,  had 
no  power  over  hers;  for  she  was  surrounded  by  a moral  at- 
mosphere of  purity, 

Driving  far  off  each  thing  of  sin  and  guilt.* 

But  to  come  back  to  Columbus.  He  still  felt  that  confi- 
dence in  success  which  is  at  once  the  illusion  and  the  star 
of  genius. 

Following  the  Court  as  it  moved  about  for  the  better  pros- 
ecution of  the  war,  he  must  have  watched  with  aching  heart 
the  long  round  of  festivities,  which  greeted  at  Seville,  first 
the  capture  of  Baza,  and  then  the  mamage  of  the  young  Isa- 
bella of  Spain  with  Don  Alonza,  heir  presumptive  to  the 
Crown  of  Portugal.  Columbus  knew  that  there  would  be 
no  peace  till  Isabella  the  Catholic  had  Granada  in  her  hands, 
and  that  the  recommencement  of  the  war,  would  mean  an  in- 
definite postponement  of  his  cause,  so  he  pressed  at  once  for 
the  formal  reply  of  the  Junta  of  Salamanca.  The  Prior  of 
Prado,  appointed  in  the  interval.  Bishop  of  Avila,  was  in- 
structed to  furnish  it,  and  it  was  to  the  effect  that  “the proj- 
ect rested  on  a false  basis,  since  the  author  of  it  asserted  as 
a truth  what  was  an  impossibility.”  Even  after  this  an- 
swer, Isabella  would  not  dismiss  the  case,  and  Talavera  was 
instructed  to  say,  that  as  soon  as  the  war  was  over,  there 
should  be  a fresh  discussion. 

Columbus,  by  this  time,  was  well  inured  to  delay,  scoffs, 
and  ridicule;  but  the  delay  now  seemed  likely  to  be  endless, 
and  still  he  could  not  leave  Catholic  Spain  without  one  more 


’ Prescott. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


43 


effort.  Spain  was  even  now  fighting  the  infidel,  and  Spain 
deserved  to  be  the  Patron  of  the  Cross. 

If  the  King  and  Queen  were  too  busy  with  the  campaign, 
there  were  other  Spainards  of  almost  regal  power  and  wealth, 
who  could  fit  out  his  little  armament.  He  applied  to  the 
Duke  of  Medina  Sidonia,  but  he  also  was  busy  with  the  war. 
He  turned  to  the  Duke  of  Medina  Celi,  and  this  great  noble- 
man consented  to  furnish  him  with  all  things  needful,  but 
at  the  last  moment  he  bethought  him  that  such  an  enter- 
prise scarcely  belonged  to  a subject,  and  he  asked  the  Queen 
to  give  her  sanction.  She  returned  a gracious  answer,  but 
begged  him  to  leave  the  expedition  to  the  Crown,  and  she 
summoned  Columbus  and  told  him  that  he  really  must  wait 
till  the  close  of  the  war,  and  he  should  then  receive  fuU  sat- 
isfaction. But  the  end  of  the  war  was  an  event  of  the  un- 
certain future,  and  Columbus  felt  that  his  time  was  growing, 
with  every  wasted  year,  more  precious. 

He  made  up  his  mind  to  go  at  once  to  the  King  of  France, 
who  had  written  an  encouraging  letter.  But  he  went  first  to 
La  Rabida,  to  take  James  from  the  care  of  Father  Perez  and 
leave  him  with  little  Fernando,  in  his  wife’s  hands,  at  Cor- 
dova. We  may  imagine  the  grief  of  the  good  Franciscan,  to 
see  his  friend,  after  so  many  years  of  patient  hope,  return 
with  his  prayer  unheard.  He  called  in  the  learned  village 
doctor,  Garcia  Hernandez,  and  they  put  Columbus  steadily 
through  his  proofs,  with  the  objections  to  them  and  solu- 
tions, like  another  Junta  of  Salamanca.  The  monk  and  the 
physician  were  both  completely  convinced.  Father  Perez 
felt  that  it  was  time  for  prompt  action.  As  the  former  con 
fessor  of  the  Queen,  he  felt  that  he  could  speak  and  be  lis 
tened  to,  and  so  he  wrote  a letter  to  Isabella;  but  he  was  de- 
termined that  it  should  be  placed  without  delay  in  her  royal 
hands,  and  they  sent  it  accordingly  by  the  hands  of  Sebas- 
tian Rodriguez,  an  experienced  sailor  and  a trusty  envoy. 
It  found  the  Queen  at  Santa  Fe. 

In  a fortnight  Rodriguez  returned  with  an  invitation  to 
the  Franciscan  Father  and  a message  of  encouragement  to 
Columbus.  The  poor  monk  had  no  mule  of  his  own  to  sad- 


44 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


die,  as  our  Irving  supposed,  so  Columbus  bad  to  borrow 
one  for  bim.  He  obtained  tbe  ear  of  tbe  Queen,  and  bis 
pleading  was  irresistible.  Columbus  was  summoned  to 
Court  anew,  but  now  fate  was  banging  over  tbe  famous  city 
of  Granada,  and  all  things  human  might  wait  a few  days  to 
watch  tbe  death  agony  of  a war  that  bad  lasted  for  eight 
hundred  years.  He  arrived  just  in  time  to  witness  tbe  mem- 
orable surrender  of  that  Capital  to  tbe  Spanish  arms.  On 
tbe  2nd  of  January  1492,  be  beheld  Boabdil,  tbe  last  of  tbe 
Moorish  Kings,  sally  forth  from  Alhambra,  and  yield  up 
tbe  keys  of  that  favorite  seat  of  Moslem  power;  while  Ferdi- 
nand and  Isabella,  with  all  the  chivalry  and  magnificence  of 
Spain,  moved  forward  in  proud  and  solemn  procession,  to 
receive  this  token  of  submission.  The  air  resounded  with 
shouts  of  joy,  songs  of  triumph,  and  hymns  of  thanksgiving. 
The  Cross  had  finally  triumphed  over  the  Crescent,  and  the 
power  of  the  Arabian  Prophet  was  forever  destroyed  in  the 
beautiful  plains  and  valleys  of  Andalusia. 

During  this  brilliant  and  triumphant  scene,  remarks  an 
elegant  Spanish  writer,  “a  man,  obscure  and  but  little  known, 
followed  the  Court.  Confounded  in  the  crowd  of  importun- 
ate applicants,  and  feeding  his  imagination,  in  the  corners 
of  antechambers,  with  the  pompous  project  of  discovering  a 
world,  he  was  melancholy  and  dejected  in  the  midst  of  the 
general  rejoicing,  and  beheld  with  indifference,  almost  with 
contempt,  the  conclusion  of  a conquest  which  swelled  all 
bosoms  with  jubilee,  and  seemed  to  have  reached  the  utmost 
bounds  of  desire.  That  man  was  Christopher  Columbus.” 

In  the  midst  of  the  rejoicings,  Isabella  kept  her  promise, 
and  sent  for  Columbus.  She  had  full  faith  in  him.  She  ac- 
cepted his  project,  but  the  terms  had  to  be  agreed  upon  and 
it  so  happened  that  the  Bishop  of  Avila  was  appointed  to 
arrange  them.  Years  of  waiting  had  not  changed  the  ex- 
alted views  of  Columbus.  To  Talavera’s  narrow  mind,  the 
price  was  too  high  to  pay.  “A  beggar,”  said  he, “made 
conditions  like  a king  to  monarchs.”  The  Queen,  against 
her  better  judgment,  was  even  persuaded  to  tell  Columbus  that 
his  demands  were  too  large,  and  he  took  his  departurer  Spain 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


45 


would  not  pay  the  price,  and  the  price  could  not  be  altered  ! 

But  Columbus  was  incomparably  greater  than  any  mon- 
arch of  his  age,  and  what  were  his  conditions  ? As  became 
him,  they  were  not  insignificant.  He  asked  to  be  made  an 
Admiral  at  once,to  be  appointed  Viceroy  of  the  countries  he 
should  discover,  and  to  have  an  eighth  of  all  the  profits  of 
the  expedition.  The  best  way  of  accounting  for  the  extent 
of  these  demands  and  his  perseverance,  in  making  them — 
even  to  the  risk,  of  total  failure — is  that  the  discovery  of  the 
Indies  was  but  a step  in  his  mind  to  what  seemed  to  him  a 
far  grander  undertaking ; namely,  raising  a large  army  and 
making  another  crusade  for  the  recovery  of  the  Holy  Land 
from  the  dominion  of  the  infidel  Turk.  If  we  would  not  en- 
tirely misunderstand  Columbus,  we  must  constantly  remem- 
ber the  lofty  motives  that  guided  his  life’s  labors.  To  him 
the  great  things  of  this  world  were  very  trifling.  His  pierc- 
ing glance  analyzed  them,  and  stripped  them  of  all  illu- 
sion. He  looked  beyond  the  stars.  Giod,  Heaven,  Religion 
— these  were  the  supernatural  ideas  that  filled  that  capa- 
rious  intellect,  raising  it  far  above  the  low  plain  of  common 
thoughts,  thus  imparting  an  iron  resolution  to  a will  naturally 
strong,  and  giving  marvellous  elevation  to  a character  natur- 
ally grand  and  fearless.  The  discoverer  of  America  was,  in- 
deed, a true  Catholic  son  of  the  old  Crusaders — pious  and 
enthusiastic  as  Peter  the  Hermit,  bold  as  the  Coeur  de  Lion, 
patient  and  dauntless  as  Godfrey  de  Bouillon,  and  a par- 
taker in  the  holy  wisdom  of  St.  Louis  and  St.  Bernard. 

Columbus  now  mounted  his  mule  and  rode  from  Santa  Fe 
in  the  direction  of  Cordova,  fully  convinced,  at  last,  that 
eighteen  good  years  of  life  had  been  spent  to  no  purpose, 
and  that  he  would  have  to  begin  all  over  again  at  some  other 
Court,  the  thankless  task  of  suing  for  the  loan  of  three  little 
ships  and  a handful  of  men ; for  this  was  really  all  that  he 
had  asked  the  Spanish  sovereigns  to  pay  him  in  advance. 
The  haughty  demands  which  the  Bishop  of  Avila  could  not 
brook  depended  upon  the  success  of  a design  which,  if  it 
were  ever  realized,  would  make  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  the 
debtors  of  their  long- suffering  petitioner  beyond  all  their 


46 


CHRISTOPEEB  COLUMBUS. 


power  to  pay  him  back.  A vice-royalty  to  him  and  his  heirs 
in  the  event  of  great  discoveries,  would  not  be  deemed  an 
excessive  recompense,  and  in  the  event  of  slight  success  or 
failure  would  not  press  heavily  upon  the  donors. 

If  he  was  human,  Columbus  must  have  included  in  one 
grand  sweeping  condemnation  Court  and  courtiers,  learned 
men  and  selfish  politicians  ; and  even  Isabella  could  scarcely 
hope  to  escape  censure.  His  feelings  as  he  rode  away 
would  be  worth  the  analysis,  but  he  kept  them  to  himself, 
and  conjecture  unsupported  by  word  or  sign  is  to  little  pur- 
pose. A man  of  his  deep,  earnest  temperament  would  need 
all  his  Christian  philosophy  to  bear  up  against  such  a dis- 
appointment. But  he  never  lost  faith  in  his  cause,  for  he 
felt  that  the  cause  was  God’s,  in  Whose  hands  are  the  hearts 
of  rulers,  and  the  destinies  of  nations. 

Fortunately  for  Isabella,  the  Bishop  of  Avila  was  not 
the  only  counsellor  at  hand.  Luis  de  St.  Angel,  Receiver 
of  Ecclesiastical  Revenues,  and  Alonzo  de  Quintanilla, 
Comptroller-General  of  Finance,  at  whose  house  Columbus 
had  been  staying,  were  full  of  grief.  St.  Angel  rushed  into 
the  presence  of  the  Queen,  and  in  the  fervor  of  his  zeal  for 
Christendom  and  Spain  he  even  reproached  her  for  the  un- 
worthy part  she  was  playing  under  evil  dictation.  Isabella 
thanked  him  for  his  frankness.  Alonzo  de  Quintanilla  sup- 
ported the  remonstrance.  Father  John  Perez  was  in  the 
Queen’s  chapel  close  by  on  his  knees  before  the  Blessed 
Sacrament,  praying  with  all  his  heart  and  soul  that  God, 
for  the  Five  Sacred  Wounds  of  Jesus,  would  vouchsafe  to 
guide  her  decision. 

Her  eyes  were  opened.  The  thought  of  the  vast  interests 
at  stake  darted  into  her  mind  with  the  force  of  an  inspira- 
tion, and  her  resolve  was  formed.  No  power  on  earth  could 
change  it  then,  not  even  her  husband’s  xinwillingness  to 
move  in  the  matter;  for  she  was  a sovereign  in  her  own 
right,  and  as  such,  and  for  her  own  crown  of  Castile,  she 
undertook  the  enterprise,  and  as  the  war  had  drained  the 
royal  coffers  of  Castile,  she  was  ready  to  pledge  her  jewels  to 
raise  the  funds  required.  “I  undertake  it,”  exclaimed  this 


VHRISTOPHES  COL  UMB  US. 


47 


noble  and  generous  lady,  “ for  my  own  crown,  of  Castile,  and 
I will  pledge  my  jewels  to  raise  the  necessary  funds!”  This 
was  the  brightest  moment  in  the  life  of  Isabella.  It  stamped 
her  renown  forever  as  the  patroness  of  the  discovery  of  the 
New  World. 

The  money,  however,  was  a very  small  consideration  at 
that  stage  of  the  proceedings.  Ferdinand  of  Aragon  agreed 
to  lend  to  Isabella  of  Castile  the  sum  required,  and  in  due 
time  w’as  careful  to  exact  repayment.  An  officer  was  sent  in 
haste  to  overtake  Columbus.  When  he  came  up  with  hint 
at  the  bridge  of  Pinos,  two  leagues  from  Granada,  his  first 
summons  failed  to  induce  the  fugitive  to  retrace  his  steps; 
but  as  soon  as  Columbus  heard  of  Isabella’s  noble  declara- 
tion, he  turned  his  mule,  and  hastened  back  to  Sante  Fe. 
And  weU  he  might. 

This  illustrious  Catholic  Queen  had  set  aside  the  verdict 
of  the  Junta,  representing  as  it  did  the  learning  of  Spain; 
she  had  rejected  the  advice  of  her  confessor,  to  which  she 
usually  showed  a ready  deference;  she  had  acted  against  the 
opinion  of  Ferdinand,  whose  wishes  at  other  times  had  for 
her  the  force  of  laws.  Surely  she  deserved  that  her  royal 
word,  once  given,  should  be  trusted.  Good  Father  Perez, 
now  that  his  prayer  had  been  so  fully  heard,  fancied  his 
work  was  done,  and  hurried  back  to  his  convent  of  La  Ra- 
bida;  but  it  was  only  as  the  event  showed,  to  make  himself 
scarcely  less  useful  to  Columbus  by  his  business-like  co-op- 
eration at  Palos  than  by  his  valuable  prayers  at  Sante  Fe. 

Columbus  was  now  almost  another  man.  He  was  high  in 
favor.  Indeed,  the  Queen  gave  him  so  warm  a welcome 
that  it  was  evident  she  wished  to  make  amends  for  all  past 
neglect.  No  more  time  was  taken  up  in  haggling  about 
terms.  All  that  had  been  asked  for  was  conceded  vuthout  a 
word,  and  Isabella,  with  delicate  thoughtfulness,  gracefully 
added  to  the  more  formal  grant  a personal  favor  which  must 
have  been  particularly  grateful  to  a sensitive  and  wounded 
spirit,  appointing  Don  James’  one  of  the  pages  of  honor  to 


i Columbus'  eldest  soa. 


48 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS 


Prince  John,  a distinction  coveted  for  their  sons  by  the 
highest  grandees  of  Spain. 

The  terms  of  agreement  were,  with  all  convenient  dispatch, 
drawn  up  by  the  Queen’s  secretary,  and  Ferdinand  affixed 
his  signature  conjointly,  according  to  the  Articles  of  Mar- 
riage, but  he  took  no  further  interest  in  the  matter,  and 
Isabella  singly  was  the  life  and  soul  of  the  whole  enterprise. 
It  was  to  the  following  effect : — 

The  favors  which  Christopher  Columbus  has  asked  from 
the  King  and  Qneen  of  Spain,  in  recompense  of  the  discover- 
ies which  he  has  made  in  the  ocean  seas,  and  as  recompense 
for  the  voyages,  which  he  is  about  to  undertake  are  the 
following — 

1.  He  wishes  to  be  made  admiral  of  the  seas  and  countries 
which  he  is  about  to  discover.  He  desires  to  hold  the  dig- 
nity during  his  life,  and  that  it  should  descend  to  his  heirs. 

This  request  is  granted  hy  the  King  and  Queen. 

2.  Christopher  Columbus  wishes  to  be  made  viceroy  of  all 
the  countries  and  islands. 

Granted  hy  the  King  and  Queen. 

3.  He  wishes  to  have  a share,  amounting  to  a tenth  part, 
of  the  profits' of  all  merchandise — be  it  pearls.  Jewels,  or 
any  other  things — that  may  be  found,  gained,  bought,  or 
exported  from  the  countries  which  he  is  to  discover. 

Granted  hy  the  King  and  Queen. 

4.  He  wishes,  in  his  quality  of  admiral,  to  be  made  sole 
judge  of  all  mercantile  matters  that  may  be  the  occasion  of 
dispute  in  the  countries  which  he  is  to  discover. 

Granted  hy  the  King  and  Queen,  on  the  condition,  how- 
ever, that  this  jurisdiction  should  belong  to  the  office  of 
admiral,  as  held  hy  Don  Enriquez  and  other  admirals. 

5.  Christopher  Columbus  wishes  to  have  the  right  to  con- 
tribute the  eighth  part  of  the  expenses  of  aU  ships,  which 
traffic  in  the  new  countries,  and  in  return  to  earn  the  eighth 
part  of  the  profits. 

Granted  hy  the  King  and  Queen. 

Santa  Fb,  in  the  Vega  of  Granada,  April  17th,  1493. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


49 


This  agreement  was  written  by  Almazan,  and  signed  by 
the  secretary,  Colona. 

One  of  the  great  objects  held  out  by  Columbus  in  his  un- 
dertakings, was  the  propagation  of  the  Catholic  faith.  He 
expected  to  find  barbarous  and  infidel  nations  in  the  un- 
known parts  of  the  east,  and  to  visit  the  territories  of  the 
Grand  Khan,  whose  conversion  had  in  former  times  been  an 
object  of  pious  missions.  The  Spanish  sovereigns  concurred 
with  him  in  these  ideas,  and,  when  he  afterwards  departed  on 
his  voyage,  they  actually  gave  him  letters  addressed  to  the 
Grand  Khan  of  Tartary. 

Isabella  without  delay,  issued  her  orders  for  the  necessary 
arrangements.  It  happened  that  the  little  seaport  of  Palos, 
which  Columbus  knew  so  well,  had  been  for  some  miscon- 
duct condemned  to  furnish  to  the  Crown  one  year’s  service 
of  two  caravels,  armed  and  manned.  Advantage  was  taken 
of  this  existing  obligation,  and  the  caravels  were  now  re- 
quired to  be  in  readiness  in  ten  days,  and  to  be  placed  at 
the  disposal  of  Columbus.  This  might  be  a saving  of  actual 
expense,  but  it  was  an  unwise  economy,  for  it  gave  to  what, 
at  the  best,  would  have  been  a suflBciently  unpopular  com- 
mission, the  character  of  a penal  conscription,  and  this  upon 
an  occasion  when  volunteers  were  most  desirable,  and  forced 
men  were  sure  to  prove  daugerous  and  possibly  altogether 
unmanageable.  * 

The  royal  mandate  was  read  to  the  natives  of  Palos  in  the 
Church  of  St.  George  by  the  notary  public,  on  the  requisi- 
tion of  Columbus,  who  was  accompanied  as  a matter  of 
course,  by  the  Franciscan  Guardian,  Father  Perez.  The  au- 
thorities signified  their  submission;  but  seamen  had  wills  of 
their  own,  and  when  they  knew  the  nature  of  the  service 
for  which  they  were  ordered  to  hold  themselves  in  readiness, 
they  showed  extreme  repugnance  to  give  in  their  names. 
Not  even  a royal  order,  or  the  promise  of  immunity  from  le- 
gal prosecution  and  of  four  months’  pay  at  a higher  rate 


' “ The  ship  of  ColnmbuB,”  says  Helps,  was,  therefore,  a refuge  for  criminals  and  runaway 
debtors,  a cave  of  Adullam  for  the  discontented  and  the  desperate.  To  have  to  deal  with  such 
a community  was  not  one  of  the  least  of  Columbus’  difficulties.” 


50 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


than  usual,  to  be  made  in  advance  at  the  time  of  embarka- 
tion, could  induce  men  to  offer  themselves  for  so  mad  a ven- 
ture as  a voyage  due  west  into  the  vast  and  gloomy  ocean. 
They  valued  their  lives,  and  they  did  not  wish  to  be  sent  off 
on  a fool’s  errand,  or  agree  to  make  up  a forlorn  hope  for 
anybody’s  asking.  TTor  were  these  timid  landsmen,  but 
bold  and  haxdy  sailoiAt. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

THE  PATH  THAT  LED  TO  A HEW  WOBLR 

Obstacles  in  the  way  of  'preparation — Great  services  of 
Father  Ferez — The  Pinzons — The  three  vessels — Relig- 
ious  preparations — Scenes  at  the  departure — ^'‘The  sea! 
the  sea!  the  open  sea!^^ — Terror  produced  by  a vol^ 
cano — Fears,  dangers,  and  adventures  of  the  voyage 
— A New  World  found — Ceremony  of  taking  posses- 
sion— The  natives — Cuba  and  Hayti — Romantic  inci- 
dents— Shipwreck — The  erection  of  the  fortress  of  La 
Navidad^ Adieu  to  America. 

Often  have  gifted  pens  recounted  the  story  of  this  cele- 
brated voyage — the  most  celebrated  in  the  history  of  discov- 
ery. But  never  can  it  become  threadbare,  never  can  it  cease 
to  possess  a thrilling  interest  for  all,  who  can  admire  the 
heroic,  for  all,  who  love  the  good,  the  beautiful,  the 
sublime. 

It  is,  in  truth,  suggestive  to  think  that  the  little  port  of 
Palos,  in  Andalusia,  was  assigned  to  Columbus,  as  the  head- 
quarters of  organization  for  the  expedition,  and  the  point 
of  departure  for  his  squadron.  There  he  first  found  a true 
friend  in  Spain.  The  idea  discussed  in  the  monastery  of 
La  Rabida,  near  Palos,  by  Father  John  Perez  and  Dr. 
Garcia  Hernandez,  when  they  first  talked  with  Columbus, 
was  thus  brought  home  to  them  once  more ; and  the  learned 
Franciscan  himself  was  going  to  preside  over  all  the  prepar- 
atons,  and  see  from  his  own  hermitage,  the  first  sail  of  his 
friend,  spread  towards  that  unknown  world,  which  they  had 
already  contemplated  together,  with  the  keen,  bright  eye  of 
faith  and  genius. 

In  spite  of  the  kindness  and  authority  of  Isabella,  many 
unforeseen  obstacles  threw  themselves  in  the  way  of  success. 

61 


52 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


The  very  beginning  was  up-hill  work.  The  first  proclamation 
was  on  the  23d  of  May,  1492.  On  the  20th  of  June  more 
peremptory  orders  were  issued,  empowering  the  magistrates 
on  the  coast  of  Andalusia  to  press  into  the  service  at  their 
discretion,  any  Spanish  ships  with  their  crews.  John  De 
Pehalosa  was  sent  to  enforce  the  execution  with  pains  and 
penalties,  and  acting  upon  his  orders,  he  at  once  seized  a 
vessel  named  the  Pinta,  joint  property  of  two  citizens  of 
Palos,  who  gave  themselves  up  for  lost  and  cursed  the  Gen- 
oese adventurer.  It  was  no  easy  matter  to  fit  out  the  Pinta. 
Materials  were  not  forthcoming;  ship-carpenters  were  op- 
portunely indisposed  : every  obstacle,  which  ingenuity  could 
devise  was  thrown  in  Pehalosa’ s way.  He  did  not  make 
happy  progress.  Three  ships  were  wanted,  and  as  yet  he 
had  but  one. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  the  active  help  of  that  first  and 
firmest  friend,  the  Father  Guardian  of  La  Pabida,  Colum- 
bus might  have  seen  his  cherished  project  fall  through 
finally,  not  for  want  of  letters  patent,  but  for  want  of  men. 
A Franciscan  by  his  vocation  is  at  home  among  the  poor. 
Father  Perez,  sometimes  with  and  sometimes  without  his 
friend,  made  his  rounds  among  the  townspeople  of  Palos. 
Both  his  position  and  his  personal  character  made  him  wel- 
come and  gave  him  influence.  He  maintained  the  feasibility 
of  the  voyage  and  made  light  of  imaginary  terrors ; nor 
did  he  fail,  priest  as  he  was  and  speaking  to  Catholics,  to 
insinuate  motives  of  a loftier  kind  than  mere  thirst  for  dis- 
covery or  desire  of  profit.  He  was  defending  his  own  pro- 
found convictions  all  the  time.  He  was  thinking  also  of 
souls  to  be  saved,  far  away  beyond  that  mysterious  ocean, 
which  barred  them  from  the  light  of  the  Gospel.  If  he 
could  not  communicate  to  lesser  souls  the  noble  confidence 
he  felt  himself,  at  least,  he  did  much  to  weaken  prejudice 
and  soften  down  hostility;  and  when  glorious  success  had 
crowned  that  westward  voyage,  his  energetic  efforts  were 
gratefully  remembered. 

One  service,  rendered  by  Father  Perez  in  Palos,  was  the 
introduction  of  Columbus  to  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon.  The 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


5a 

meeting  would  assuredly  have  taken  place  in  any  case,  but 
we  may  reasonably  doubt,  in  the  first  place,  whether  the 
Pinzon  family  would  have  entered  so  warmly  into  the  views 
of  Columbus,  and  in  the  second  place,  w'hether  they  would 
have  been  able  to  overcome  the  reluctance  of  uneducated 
sailors,  if  Father  Perez  had  not  brought  his  scientific  repu- 
tation and  his  local  popularity  to  the  aid  of  the  stranger. 
Penalosa,  with  his  royal  warrant  to  impound  ships  and  im- 
press Sailors,  would  soon  have  made  Columbus  an  object  of 
general  execration.  The  Pinzons  might  have  shared  the 
common  feeling,  or  might  have  had  little  power  to  allay  it. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  detennine  the  exact  value  of  the  Fran- 
ciscan’s intervention,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  he 
once  again  made  himself  very  useful  at  a critical  moment. 

The  three  brothers  Pinzon,  all  experienced  mariners,  lived 
in  the  best  house  at  Palos.  ‘ Martin  Alonzo,  the  eldest,  had 
lately  returned  from  Rome  with  seemingly  some  fresh  infor- 
mation, which  predisposed  him  to  favor  the  idea  of  Colum- 
bus. He  brought  a map  given  him  by  one  of  Innocent  VIII. ’s 
librarians,  upon  which  an  unnamed  land  was  marked  in  the 
far  west.  Whether  it  be  that  some  of  the  many  floating 
ideas,  such  as  had  already  arrived  at  some  definiteness  of 
conception  in  the  brain  of  Father  John  Perez,  had  taken 
shape  also  in  the  mind  of  the  Pope’s  librarian;  or,  by  a still 
more  simple  hypothesis,  that  Dr.  Paul  Toscanelli,  who  was 
a frequent  visitor  in  Rome,  had  mentioned  the  speculations 
of  Columbus  to  the  librarian  or  his  Mends,  and  that  the  map 
was  constructed  from  the  ideas  so  communicated,  it  is  in 
any  case  easy  to  account  for  the  existence  of  such  a map  at 
that  time.' 

Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon  entered  heartily  into  the  scheme, 
and  agreed  to  accompany  Columbus,  and  to  provide  a fine 
little  caraveP  named  the  Nina,  with  lateen-saOs,  belonging 

' Humboldt  sneers  at  the  idea  that  any  such  map  ever  existed,  and  even  accuses  Pinzon  and 
Columbus  of  having  concocted  the  story  to  deceive  the  simple  sailors.  This  is  ridiculous.  It  is  a 
/act  that  the  map  existed;  and  certainly  the  ill-natured  sneers  of  a great  man  cannot  disprove 
this  fact.  Those  who  read  Humboldt  on  Columbus  will  do  well  to  remember  that  the  knowledge 
and  infallibility  of  the  German  savant  are  by  no  means  equal  to  his  bigotry  and  dogmatism. 

’ A kind  of  light,  round,  and  old-fashioned  ship,  with  a square  poop,  rigged  like  a galley, 
and  not  much  above  a hundred  tons  in  burden— formerly  used  by  the  Spaniard's  and  Porto 
guese.—  WebsUr. 


54 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


to  Vincent  Yanez  Pinzon — the  youngest  of  the  three 
brothers — who  made  himself  famous  in  the  sequel,  as  the 
discoverer  of  Yucatan,  and  as  the  first  of  the  Spanish  cap- 
tains who  crossed  the  equinoctial  line.  Columbus  had  en- 
gaged to  furnish  an  eighth  part  of  the  expenses,  and  the 
brothers  Pinzon  enabled  him  to  fulfil  his  engagement. 

Public  opinion  now  began  to  change.  For  the  demand 
made  on  it,  Palos  offered  as  a second  vessel  a carack ' named 
the  Galleya,  large,  heavy,  and  very  solid.  She  had  four 
masts,  was  decked  throughout,  and  her  long  boat  is  said  to 
have  been  thirty  feet  in  length.  Although  unsuited  for  the 
service  assigned  her,  neither  Columbus,  nor  his  counsellor. 
Father  Perez,  dared  to  refuse  her,  fearing  to  add  to  delay 
already  too  greatly  extended.  Rapidly  she  was  equipped. 
Columbus  even  chose  her  for  the  erection  of  his  pavilion  as  ad- 
miral, but  he  first  changed  her  name.  Placing  the  ship  un- 
der the  protection  of  the  Immaculate  Virgin,  he  had  her 
blessed  and  called  the  Santa  Maria? 

Thus  the  expedition  consisted  of  three  vessels — the  Santa 
Maria.,  the  Finta,  and  the  Nina  — each  having  a good  ar- 
mament and  provisions  for  a year. 

The  Santa  Maria  carried  sixty-six  persons.  Among 
these,  in  order  of  rank,  were  Christopher  Columbus  as 
commander-in-chief  and  grand  Admiral  of  the  Ocean;  his 
nephew  by  marriage,  the  Hon.  James  de  Arana;  Peter 
Guttierrez.,  the  king’s  yeoman  of  the  stores;  Roderic  San- 
chez, controller  of  the  armament;  Roderic  de  Escovedo,  the 
notary  royal;  Bernard  de  Tapia,  the  historiographer  of  the 
expedition;  Lewis  de  Torrez,  a converted  Jew,  who  knew 
Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew,  Arabic,  Coplia,  and  Arminian,  as  in- 
terpreter of  the  expedition;  Castillo,  a goldsmith  from  Se- 
ville, as  the  official  metallurgist;  Dr.  Alonzo  and  Dr.  Juan 
composed  the  board  of  health.  There  were  also  several  pi- 
lots, and  among  the  crew  was  an  Irishman  named  William 


' A large  ship  of  burden,  such  as  the  Portuguese  formerly  used  in  trading  to  the  East  In- 
dies.— Webster. 

“ It  is  w orthy  of  notice  that  the  chief  vessel  of  the  small  squadron  by  which  Columbu,  di»- 
covered  America,  was  named  the  Holy  Mary. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


65 


Rice.  Of  those  on  board  the  Santa  Maria.,  none  were  from 
Palos. 

Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon,  with  his  brother  Francis  Martin 
Pinzon,  for  a lieutenant,  had  command  of  the  Pinta,  which 
numbered  thirty  on  board,  all  from  the  neighborhood  of 
Palos,  except  one,  and  that  one  the  ill-fated  Roderic  de 
Triana.  Even  Dr.  Grarcia  Hernandez,  in  spite  of  his  close 
intimacy  with  Father  Perez,  sailed  as  surgeon  in  the  Pinta, 
not  in  the  Santa  Maria,  . bo  that  there  was  evidently  an  ar- 
rangement in  virtue  of  which  the  men  of  the  expedition 
were  divided  into  those  from  Palos  and  Moguer  and  those 
from  other  places,  Columbus  commanding  the  latter  division 
and  the  two  brothers  Pinzon  the  former. 

The  Nina,  commanded  by  Vincent  Yahez  Pinzon,  carried 
the  remainder  of  the  Palos  contingent,  twenty-four  souls. 

It  cannot  be  doubted  that  in  finishing  his  review  of  the 
equipage,  Columbus,  as  was  his  custom,  made  an  address, 
and  that  yielding  to  the  emotions  of  his  heart,  he  spoke  to 
his  hardy  hearers  of  Grod,  into  whose  hands  they  were  about 
to  commit  their  souls,  and  the  fate  of  the  expedition. 

Fear  and  danger  turned  their  hearts  to  Heaven.  Each 
confessed  his  sins,  and  obtained  absolution.  With  Colum- 
bus at  their  head,  the  crews  marched  in  procession  to  the 
monastery  of  La  Rabida,  to  implore  the  divine  assistance, 
and  to  put  themselves  under  the  special  protection  of  the 
Most  Blessed  Virgin.  Mass  was  said,  and  from  the  hands  of 
Father  Perez  they  all  received  Holy  Communion — true  bread 
of  Saints  and  heroes. 

Before  departing,  Columbus  took  his  son  James  from  the 
convent  of  La  Rabida,  and  sent  him  under  convoy  to  his 
wife  Beatrix,  at  Cordova,  having  himself  called  there  on  his 
way  from  Santa  Fe.  Having  thus  carefully  provided  for  all 
that  was  dearest  to  him  in  this  world,  the  Admiral  shut  up 
in  his  “ cell”  to  wait  for  a good  east  wind.  He  had  previ- 
ously spent  the  chief  part  of  his  time  in  the  Franciscan 
monastery,  leaving  the  lesser  details  of  arrangement  to  the 
Pinzons,  who  were  in  every  way  competent  to  undertake  the 
direction,  and  who  had  too  large  a stake  in  the  enterprise  to 


66 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


be  suspected  of  negligence.  Everything  was  ready,  the  bag- 
gage on  board,  and  the  signal  flag  flying.  No  one  was  al- 
lowed to  step  ashore  except  the  Admiral  himself,  and  he 
was  to  be  summoned  as  soon  as  the  first  breeze  should  begin 
to  blow.  He  was  at  this  period  a member  of  the  Third  Or- 
der of  St.  Francis,  and  it  is  probable  that  he  had  only  a short 
time  previously  been  enrolled.  He  attended  choir.  His  fa- 
vorite book  was  the  Gospel  of  St.  John.  We  may  well  im- 
agine that  his  own  meditations  would  have  had,  at  such  a 
time,  a tinge  of  sublimity. 

“Tbe  morning  is  breaking  on  Palos  bay, 

On  its  town,  and  wharf,  and  ramparts  grey. 

On  three  barks  at  their  moorings  that  gallantly  ride. 

With  the  towers  of  Castile  on  their  flags  of  pride.” 

It  was  about  three  o’clock  in  the  morning  on  Friday,  the 
3rd  of  August,  1492.  Columbus  was  awakened  by  the  rust- 
ling of  the  tall  pines,  whose  tops  were  agitated  by  the  land 
breeze;  and  at  once  the  keen,  practised  ear  of  the  veteran 
mariner  recognized  the  expected  favorable  wind.  Quitting 
his  cell,  he  quietly  rapped  at  the  door  of  the  Father  Guar 
dian.  The  Brother  Sacristan  was  soon  up,  and  the  candles 
lit,  preparatory  to  the  celebration  of  Holy  Mass.  On  board 
•the  caravels,  the  watch-guards  might,  through  the  stately 
pine-trees,  see  the  high  window-panes  of  La  Rabida  shine  at 
that  unusual  hour.  While  the  community  was  peacefully 
slumbering,  Columbus,  with  gentle  step,  entered  the  chapel 
of  Our  Lady.  For  him  it  was  a morning  of  joy  and  deep 
solemnity.  Father  Perez,  robed  in  his  sacerdotal  vestments, 
ascended  the  steps  of  the  altar,  and  offered  up  the  august 
Sacrifice  for  an  intention,  perhaps  until  then,  unheard  of 
since  the  institution  of  the  Blessed  Eucharist.  At  the  time 
of  Holy  Communion,  Columbus  received  the  Bread  of  angels 
by  way  of  viaticum. 

Thanksgiving  over,  the  Admiral  and  the  priest  noiselessly 
passed  out  of  the  convent,  and,  absorbed  in  thought  and 
silence,  wended  their  way,  perhaps,  down  the  declivity  that 
leads  to  Palos.  The  last  stars  still  glittered  in  the  sky,  and 
the  first  faint  glimmerings  of  dawn  began  to  appear  in  the 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB  US. 


57 


east.  Together  they  arrived  at  the  town;  and  without  delay 
the  cutter  of  the  Santa  Maria  was  seen  approaching  the 
shore  to  receive  the  Admiral.  The  inmates  of  the  neighbor- 
ing houses  were  awakened  by  the  shrill  voices  of  the  pilots 
and  boatswains.  In  a moment  doors  and  windows  flew  open. 
“They  go!”  “They  go!”  resounded  from  house  to  house. 
Mothers  and  sisters,  wives  and  children  hurried  to  the  quay 
with  mingled  sighs  and  sobs  and  tears.  Friends  and  rela- 
tions threw  themselves  into  the  barks  to  bid  a sad  adieu — 
perhaps,  the  last  forever!  It  was  a touching  scene.  Colum- 
bus pressed  the  Father  Guardian  to  his  heart,  bid  a silent 
farewell,  and,  with  tears  in  his  great  eyes,  stepped  into  the 
waiting  cutter.  On  reaching  the  Santa  Maria.,  he  was  re- 
ceived with  all  the  hojiors  due  to  an  Admiral  of  Castile.  He 
ascended  the  poop,  and  took  a careful  glance  at  the  arrange- 
ments. The  sign  was  given,  the  boats  hoisted  aboard,  and 
the  anchors  drawm  up  to  the  prows.  Columbus  waved  a 
flnal  adieu  to  his  friend, Father  Perez,  and  the  crowd  on  +.he 
shore,  took  his  place  on  the  quarter-deck,  and  with  a loud 
voice  ordered  the  sails  to  be  unfurled  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Every  eye  in  Palos  gazed  anxiously  on  the  white 
canvass,  as  the  little  squadron  pushed  out  to  sea,  and  rapidly 
sped  on  its  dangerous  journey. 

Columbus  was  now  fairly  afloat.  The  great  w’ork  was 
really  commenced.  Eighteen  years  of  weary  toil,  and  suffer- 
ing, and  watching,  and  waiting  had  passed  away,  the  white 
hairs  of  fifty-seven  wdnters  crowned  his  manly,  and  vener- 
able head,  and  now' 

“With  the  world  all  before  him, 

And  providence  his  guide,” 

he  began  anew  to  battle  with  man  and  tempest,  on  the  broao; 
bosom  of  the  unknown  and  mysterious  Atlantic.  His  choice 
was  made,  and  his  Guide  did  not  fail  him.'  After  ordering 
the  sails  to  be  unfurled,  this  greatest  of  Admirals  entered  his 
cabin,  and  with  pen  in  hand,  opened  the  Journal  of  his  voy- 


• The  following  sentence  sums  np  a great  truth  in  relation  to  the  Discoverer  of  America — a 
tnith  too  often  forgotten  by  his  biographers:  ■ The  superiority  of  Columbus,  of  his  genius,  and  of 
his  grandeur,  was  owing  to  his  religiou*  faith. — Count  <U  Lorgwt. 


58 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


age.  The  first  words  he  wrote  were;  In  nomine  Domini 
nostri  Jesu  GliristiP' 

Of  ’the  one  hundred  and  twenty  men  on  the  three  vessels 
there  was  but  one  calm  brow^  one  heart  that  knew  not  fear, 
one  mind  “constant  as  the  northern  star.”  Though  no 
longer  young,  this  extraordinary  man  was  convinced  that 
his  life  yet  lay  before  him,  and  felt  within  himself  the 
youth  of  hope  and  an  immortal  future.  But  he  was  well 
aware  that  even  then  little  was  needed  to  ruin  everything. 
If  his  men  refused  to  sail  forward,  what  could  he  do  ? In 
many  breasts  the  old  reluctance  had  been  only  smothered, 
not  properly  quenched,  and  the  smouldering  fire  of  disaf- 
fection might  burst  into  flames  at  the  slightest  provocation. 
On  Monday  the  Pinta  ran  up  a signal  of  distress.  The 
rudder  was  disabled.  The  same  thing  had  occurred  before 
in  the  course  of  the  preparations,  and  it  was  clearly  a trick 
of  the  owners — who  were  on  board — to  force  a return. 
They  were  i-eady  to  sacrifice  a part  to  save  the  whole. 
Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon  patched  up  the  rudder  temporarily, 
and  Columbus  steered  for  the  Canaries.  He  tried  for  three 
weeks  to  pick  up  another  vessel,  but  failing,  had  to  content 
himself  with  refitting  the  Pinta.  The  Nina  was  fresh 
rigged  with  square  sails.  Danger  followed  danger.  Three 
Portuguese  caravels  were  in  waiting  at  Ferro  to  stop  further 
progress ; but  Columbus  would  delay  no  longer,  and,  on  the 
6th  of  September,  he  set  sail  and  boldl}^  struck  out  to  sea 
without  meeting  any  of  his  supposed  enemies. 

After  leaving  the  Canaries,  the  hearts  of  the  sailors  were 
stricken  with  terror  at  the  sight  of  the  volcano  of  Teneriffe, 
an  eruption  from  which  was  just  then  filling  the  sea  and  sky 

' Unhappily  this  historic  Journal  is  lost.  There  remains  but  an  abstract  of  it  made  by  Bishop 
Las  Casas. 

The  good  Bishop  liad  not  a poetical  temperament  like  Columbus,  and  could  not  in  the  least  ap- 
pieciate  flights  of  fancy,  so  under  the  idea  that  it  was  doing  good  service,  instead  of  multiplying 
copies  of  the  Journal  of  Columbus  and  securing  the  safe  transmission  of  an  original  work  of  in- 
calculable value  he  detached  the  hard  facts  from  the  accompanying  commentary,  and  a sort  of 
log-book  is  the  resuit.  Hard  facts  to  him  were  precious  stones,  and  comments  even  by  Colnmbns 
were  tinsel  setting.  The  Journal  has  perished,  and  only  the  compendium  remains.  The  pream- 
nle  of  the  Journal,  however,  is  extant;  and  from  it  may  be  guessed  what  a treasure  has  been  lost. 
r^thtr  Knlqht.  S. 

■;'his  preamble  can  be  found  in  Irving.  Vol.  I.  Book  III. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


59 


with  a lurid  glare.  They  thought  they  beheld  in  this  the 
flaming  sword  of  the  Angelic  Guard  who  drove  the  first 
man  out  of  Paradise,  waving  before  the  sons  of  men  to 
wain  them  from  the  entrance  of  these  forbidden  seas  and 
shores.  Columbus  went  from  ship  to  ship,  in  order  to  dispel 
the  general  panic,  and  to  explain  scientifically  to  those 
simple  men,  the  physical  laws  which  govern  this  seemingly 
awful  phenomenon.  But  when  the  peak  of  Teneriffe  disap- 
peared beneath  the  horizon,  the  mariners  bemoaned  its  loss 
with  a degi’ee  of  sorrow  equal  to  their  fonner  fear.  For 
them  it  was  the  last  sea-mark,  the  last  beacon  of  the  old 
world ; and  in  losing  sight  of  it  they  seemed  to  have  lost  the 
very  traces  of  their  route  across  a now  immeasurable  space. 
They  felt  as  if  detached  from  this  earth  altogether,  and  as  sail- 
ing through  the  ether  of  the  planet.  A general  prostration  of 
soul  and  body  seized  upon  them,  and  they  were  as  spectres 
who  had  lost  their  very  tombs ! Once  more  the  Admiral  gath- 
ered them  around  him  and  tried,  in  words  soft  and  eloquent, 
to  infuse  into  their  souls  some  of  his  fire  and  energy. 

But  the  distance  alone  was  enough  to  terrify  the  crews. 
In  order  to  keep  them  in  ignorance  of  the  extent  sailed  over, 
Columbus  was  accustomed  every  night  in  calculating  the 
day’s  progress  to  subtract  a part  of  the  distance,  thus  keep- 
ing two  reckonings — the  correct  one  for  his  own  private  use, 
the  other  to  satisfy  the  enquiries  of  his  officers  and  seamen. 
The  sequel  .showed  the  worldly  wisdom  of  the  contrivance. 

When  the  squadron  had  sailed  about  two  hundred  leagues 
west  of  Teneriffe,  a new  and  most  singular  phenomenon  began 
to  puzzle  the  Admiral. ' Gladly  would  he  have  concealed  it 


* On  the  13th  of  September  the  gemns  of  Colnmbns  endured  a rude  shock.  His  attentive  eye 
notices  the  earliest  sign  of  magnetic  variation.  It  was  the  first  time,  since  the  commencement 
of  history  that  the  like  observation  was  made.  The  Admiral  remarked,  at  nightfall,  that  the 
magnetic  needle,  in  piace  of  pointing  to  the  north  star  became  directed  to  the  northwest;  and 
that  early  the  next  day  the  variation  was  greater. — De  L/rrgiies. 

Some  writers  on  science  hold  that  magnetic  variation  was  known  before  the  time  of  Columbus. 
In  support  of  this  they  refer  to  the  Latin  letter  of  Peter  Adsiger,  written  in  1269,  and  contained  in 
a volume  of  Mss.  in  the  library  of  the  University  of  Leyden.  It  ts  true  that  in  this  letter  Adsiger 
distinctly  refers  to  the  variation  of  the  needle;  but  it  is  yet  an  open  question  whether  the  letter 
Itself  is  authentic. 

The  early  history  of  the  compass  is  shrowded  in  obscurity.  It  seems  that  the  attractive  power 
of  the  loadstone  over  small  pieces  of  iron  was  known  from  remote  antiquity.  It  is  clearly  re- 


I 


60  CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 

from  all  his  companions.  This  was  the  variation  of  the 
needle  of  the  compass — his  last  and  hitherto  infallible  guide 
— which  now  seemed  to  fail  him  on  the  borders  of  an  un- 
known hemisphere.  For  a few  days  he  carried  in  his  own 
mind,  this  secret  and  terrible  misgiving;  but  the  pilots  who 
visited  the  binnacle  as  anxiously  as  himself,  soon  noticed 
these  singular  variations.  Sharing  fully  in  his  astonishment, 
but  less  determined  to  brave  nature  herself  in  the  prosecution 
of  their  enterprise,  theyconcluded  that  on  the  border  of  illim- 
itable space,  even  the  elements  themselves  were  no  longer 
governed  by  invariable  laws.  Pale  and  terrified  they  gave 
utterance  to  their  doubts,  and  resigned  their  ships  to  the 
mercy  of  the  winds  and  waves,  as  thenceforth  their  only 
guides.  All  the  sailors  were  filled  with  consternation  on 
perceiving  the  panic  which  had  seized  the  pilots.  Columbus 
— who  had  vainly  endeavored  to  satisfy  his  own  mind  on  the 
reason  of  a phenomenon ' which  may  be  ranked  among  the 
mysteries  of  science — now  had  recourse  to  that  rich  and 
lively  imagination  with  which  as  an  internal  compass.  Heaven 
had  gifted  him.  He  invented  for  these  untutored  minds  a 
hasty  explanation.  He  told  them  that  the  direction  of  the 
needle  was  not  to  the  pole  star,  but  to  some  fixed  and  invisi- 
ble point.  The  variation,  therefore,  was  not  caused  by  any 
fallacy  in  the  compass,  but  by  the  movement  of  the  north 
star  itself,  which,  like  other  heavenly  bodies,  he  said,  had 
its  changes  and  revolutions,  and  every  day  described  a cir- 
cle around  the  pole.  The  high  opinion  the  sailors  enter- 
tained of  Columbus  as  a profound  astronomer  gave  weight 
to  his  theory,  and  their  alarm  subsided. 

The  change  of  the  constellation  also  helped  to  alarm  them. 
All  things  were  strange — a new  earth  and  a new  sky  and 


ferred  to  by  Homer  and  Aristotle.  St.  Augnstine  mentions  a statue  suspended  in  the  air  in  a tem« 
pie  at  Alexandria.  But  it  is  certain  that  this  great  invention  was  known  in  the  twelfth  century, 
about  the  year  1150.  This  is  proved  by  notices  of  it  in  various  authors  particularly  in  an  old 
French  poem  called  La  Bible  Chiyot.  Cardinal  De  Vitri,  who  wrote  about  the  year  1300,  mentions 
the  magnetic  needle  in  his  history  of  Jerusalem.  It  is  generally  stated,  however,  that  an  Italian, 
named  Flavio  Gioja,  who  lived  in  the  thirteenth  century,  was  the  inventor  of  the  mariner’s 
compass. 

* On  the  history  of  the  compass  and  the  theories  of  magneticism,  see  Art.  “ Magnetism”  in 
Encydopxdia  Brilannica,  Vol.  XIV.,  Art.  “ Terrestrial  magnetism,”  Appleton’s  America  CycXeh- 
padia,  Vol.  XI. 


CJIJUSTOrilER  COLUMBUa. 


61 


new  laws  of  nature.  Columbus,  however,  seemed  to  know  no 
fear,  or  only  to  fear  the  fears  of  his  companions.  A magnif- 
icent meteor  filled  him  with  admiration,  but  the  crews,  with 
terror.  His  trust  was  not  in  compass  or  constellations,  but 
in  the  guiding  hand  of  Grod  and  in  a Star  of  the  Sea  shining 
from  a higher  heaven  than  the  eyes  of  the  body  could  reach. 
The  standard  of  the  Cross  was  floating  overhead  to  discon- 
cert the  spirits  of  darkness  and  to  rectify  all  malignant  in- 
fluences of  the  elements,  and  every  evening  the  sound  of  the 
Salve  Regina  and  the  Ave  Maris  Stella  sanctified  those  vast 
solitudes  where  never  from  creation’s  dawn  the  voice  of  man 
had  sounded  until  then — 

They  were  the  first  that  ever  burst 
Into  that  silent  sea. 

The  Admiral  shut  himself  up  at  stated  times  every  day, 
to  make  Ms  meditation  and  recite  his  office,  like  a Francis- 
can. He  was  jjretty  nearly  all  the  remainder  of  the  day 
and  night  at  Ms  station  on  the  poop,  keeping  watch.  The 
weather  was  charming,  the  trade  wind  steady,  and  the 
progress  rapid.  But  the  hearts  of  the  wanderers  sank  within 
tliem.  The  fair  wind  began  to  be  the  chief  of  all  their  ocean 
terrors.  They  were  driving  along  before  the  breeze  gaily  to 
their  doom,  for  if  the  wind  blew  always  from  the  east  they 
could  never  sail  back! 

Already,  towards  the  end  of  September,  the  crews  were 
ripe  for  mutiny.  Argument  had  been  exhausted  ; authority 
was  little  regarded.  No  effort  w’as  made  to  disguise  the 
general  discontent.  But  Columbus  held  on  his  course.  The 
wind  shifted  to  the  west,  to  the  immense  relief  of  all.  Next 
day,  a calm  ensued.  Then  light  breezes  came  and  went. 
As  the  caravels  advanced  slowly  they  encountered  great 
masses  of  sea- weed,  for  they  had  arrived  at  the  Mar  dv 
Sargasso,  where,  over  an  extent  of  surface  which  Humboldt 
declares,  to  be  more  than  seven  times  the  area  of  France, 
the  ocean  plain  is  thickly  covered  with  ffoating  verdure,  and 
sometimes  resembles  a vast  undulating  meadow.  At  first 
the  greater  abundance  of  sea- weed  was  noticed  with  delight, 


62 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


as  a sign  that  the  land  was  not  far  away.  Then  great  fears 
began  to  be  felt  lest,  perchance,  the  only  land  might  be 
found  to  be  those  hidden  ledges  and  drowned  islands,  of 
which  many  fearful  tales  were  told.  Serious  alarm  reigned 
in  the  minds  of  the  crews.  They  believed  they  had  got  to 
those  endless  swamps  of  the  ocean,  which  were  said,  to  serve 
as  boundaries  to  the  world,  and  as  tombs  for  the  curiosity 
of  those,  who  dared  to  enter  them.  The  crowds  of  plants 
growing  in  infinite  numbers,  presented  the  aspect  of  an  un- 
bounded marsh,  which  the  Almighty  Creator  had  placed  as 
a limit  in  the  ocean,  in  order  to  stop  the  temerity  of  man- 
kind. 

The  most  fearless  turned  pale.  It  seemed,  as  if,  these  in- 
describable latitudes  had  been  marked,  as  the  last  limit  of 
navigation,  and  that  this  small  herbage,  becoming  more  and 
more  dense  and  matted,  the  caravels  would  soon  be  com- 
pletely in  its  bounds,  and  return  would  be  impossible.  Might 
they  not  also  become  the  prey  of  sea-monsters,  hidden  under 
that  verdure  ? Might  not  famine  soon  stare  them  in  the  face, 
as  during  the  conflict  of  their  prows  with  the  herbage,  their 
sea  stores  would  become  exhausted,  little  by  little?  Thus 
questioned  the  sailors,  their  heads  being  freely  haunted  with 
frightful  visions,  the  natural  consequences  of  stories  heard 
in  other  days,  around  the  fireside,  during  the  long  watchings 
of  winter.  They  had  heard  of  the  submarine  giant,  of  the 
north,  >f  the  terrible  Kraken  who  with  one  arm  embraced 
the  White  Sea,  while  with  the  other  he  grasped  the  German 
Ocean  ! Nor  did  they  forget  the  nameless  monsters,  that  eat 
seamen  and  dragged  ships  into  whirlpools!  Even  the  gigantic 
roc  of  the  Arabians,  might  some  day  suddenly  pounce  down 
on  them  from  the  air.  It  was  represented  as  moving  on 
immense  wings  in  those  distant  latitudes ; and  the  story 
M’ent,  that  it  could  seize  Avith  its  bill,  not  only  a man  or  a 
bark,  but  even  a large  ship  AAUth  all  its  equippage.  This 
dreadful  bird  Avas  said  to  soar,  with  its  Amst  burdens  up  to 
the  clouds,  and  from  that  dizzy  height  amused  itself  by 
tearing  and  breaking  them  to  pieces,  and  letting  them  fall — 
men,  and  masts,  and  planks — into  the  hideous  waves  of  the 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  VMB  US. 


68 


gloomy  and  boundless  ocean  ! Now,  at  last,  they  had  reached 
the  place  of  their  doom.  No  breath  was  in  the  air,  no  rip- 
ple marked  the  green  sea,  which  stretched  away  without 
limit — a level  plain  on  every  side.  They  felt  that  they  had 
brought  their  fate  upon  themselves,  and  had  themselves  to 
thank.  Had  they  not  really  known  all  the  time  that  such 
a voyage  was  the  extreme  of  madness  ‘'i 

Fortunately,  the  surface  did  not  long  remain  smooth : 
gi’eat  billows  rose  and  fell,  and  the  phantom  of  perpetual 
stagnation  vanished,  as  the  phantom  of  perpetual  east  wind 
had  done.  On  the  25th  of  September,  Hie  Pinta  being  close 
to  the  Santa  Maria,  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon,  deceived  by  a 
cloud  upon  the  horizon,  cried  out,  “Land!  land!  I claim 
the  prize.”  All  his  crew  were  shouting  with  joy;  the  men 
of  the  Nina  ran  up  the  rigging  for  a better  view,  and  con- 
firmed the  announcement.  Columbus  fell  on  his  knees,  and 
intoned  the  Gloria  in  excelsis.  When  the  mistake  Avas  dis- 
covered, the  revulsion  of  feeling  was  terrible.  Signs  of  land 
for  the  next  few  days  kept  a glimmering  hope  alive ; but 
the  distance  which  severed  them  from  the  world  of  human 
beings — 580  leagues  they  were  told,*  but  really  707,  as  Co- 
lumbus well  knew — seemed  to  shut  out  all  chances  of  return. 

Nor  must  it  be  imagined  that  these  mariners  were  without 
stout  hearts ; but  what  a daring  thing  it  was  to  plunge, 
doAvn-hill,  as  it  were,  into 

“A  world  of  waves,  a sea  without  a shore, 

Trackless,  and  vast,  and  wild,” 

mocked  day  after  day  with  signs  of  land  that  neared  not. 
They  had  left  at  home  all  that  is  dearest  to  man  here  below, 
and  did  not  bring  out  any  great  idea  to  uphold  them,  and 
had  done  enough  to  make  them  important  men  in  their 
towns,  and  to  furnish  ample  talk  for  the  evenings  of  their 
lives. 

Still  we  find  Columbus,  as  late  as  the  3d  of  October,  say- 
ing “that  he  did  not  choose  to  stop  beating  about  last  week 


■ " On  the  first  of  October,  at  daybreak,  writes  the  Count  de  Lorgucs,  the  lieutenant  of  sen-ice, 
rith  an  accent  of  terror  which  he  could  not  control,  declared  tliat  they  had  made  578  league* 
westward  from  the  Island  of  Ferro.  This  figure  cast  the  crews  into  the  greatest  dejection.” 


64 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


during  those  days  that  they  had  such  signs  of  land,  although 
he  had  knowledge  of  their  being  certain  islands  in  that 
neighborhood,  because  he  would  not  suffer  any  detention, 
since  his  object  was  to  go  to  the  Indies ; and  if  he  should 
stop  on  the  way  it  would  show  a want  of  mind.” 

During  all  this  long  voyage  the  Admiral  held  communion 
only  with  his  own  thoughts,  the  stars,  and  Heaven,  under 
whose  protection  he  felt  himself  to  be.  Almost  without 
sleej),  he  spent  his  days  in  his  cabin,  taking  note  of  the  de- 
grees, the  latitudes  and  distance  he  reckoned  he  had  passed, 
in  characters,  no  one  but  himself  could  deciiffier;  and  spent 
his  nights  on  deck,  beside  the  pilots,  studying  the  stars  and 
the  appearance  of  the  sea.  He  was  almost  utterly  alone. 
Like  Moses  of  old,  leading  God's  people  through  the  desert, 
his  pensive  gravity  impressed  his  companions  with  a min- 
gled respect,  distrust  and  fear,  which  held  them  aloof  from 
him.  And  thus  lived  the  discoverer  of  America  in  that  state 
of  solitude  and  separation  which  is  frequently  the  fate  of 
men  superior  to  their  fellows  in  object,  grasp  of  mind,  and 
grandeur  of  idea. 

“The  sea  is  always  fine,”  wrote  Columbus  in  his  Journal; 
“be  infinite  thanks  given  to  God.”  But  he  was  now  fated  to 
need  all  his  strength  and  presence  of  mind.  The  hour  of 
trial  and  fearful  test  was  at  hand.  The  illusion  of  land  seen 
but  never  found,  and  the  iron  purpose  of  Columbus  in  pur- 
suing his  way  without  turning  either  to  the  right  or  the 
left,  exasperated  the  officers  who  counselled  a different 
course.  Murmurings  were  changed  into  hatred.  The  crews 
daily  grew  more  and  more  sullen — a mark  of  the  greatest 
discouragement.  Unknown  to  the  officers,  the  sailors  would 
gather  in  groups  of  three  or  four  to  console  one  another. 
These  meetings  grew  more  frequent.  Discontent  became 
general.  Soon  no  pains  were  taken  to  disguise  their  pent-up 
feelings  of  fear  and  wrath.  As  Spaniards  they  naturally  de- 
tested this  eccentric  foreigner.,  who  had  madly  resolved,  they 
said,  to  find  what  only  existed  in  his  over-heated  imagina- 
tion.  In  order  to  be  able  to  speak  ill  of  him — even  in  his 
very  presence — they  gave  him  the  nicknames  of  ^'■braggarV' 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMRUS. 


05 


and  ■ fiumhiKj."  The  old  sailors  whispered  to  one  another 
that  he  was  a fool.  All  agreed  that  to  push  on  further  was 
to  go  to  certain  destruction. 

Was  it  right,  they  said,  that  one  hundred  and  twenty  men 
— most  of  them  Castilians — should  perish  through  the  whims 
of  this  dreaming  Genoese?  Never!  He  must  be  told  to  turn 
back  to  Spain;  and  in  case  of  his  refusal — why  heave  him  in- 
to the  sea  which  he  so  much  admired.  This  rigorous  course 
was  unavoidable.  Necessity  knew  no  law.  Then,  it  Avould 
be  easy  on  their  return  to  publish  that  he  fell  of  accident 
into  the  ocean,  while  observing  the  stars.  There  Avas  even  a 
secret  agreement  betAveen  the  creAvs  of  the  three  caravels. 
This  conspiracy  had  almost  every  sailor  as  an  accomplice, 
AA'hile  it  had  nobody  as  chief. 

The  captains'  of  the  Pinta  and  Nina  AA^ere  not  ignorant  of 
the  plot  Avhich  was  hatching  against  the  Admiral,  but  their 
superior  intelligence  lArevented  them  from  participating  in 
the  fears  of  the  common  seamen.  They  carefully  abstained, 
however,  from  saying  a Avord.  But,  it  appears,  that  many 
times,  in  their  communications  Avitli  Columbus,  the  three 
Pinzons  by  their  lofty  airs  and  haughty  proceedings  made 
him  sorely  feel  their  strength,  and  his  own  unhappy  iso- 
lation. 

The  eA'ening  of  the  10th  of  October — tAA'odays  before  Co- 
lumbus doubted  the  size  of  the  world’s  map — saAv  the  creAA's 
in  a state  of  open  revolt.  Their  feelings,  so  long  dammed 
up,  noAv  burst  forth  like  the  roar  of  a cataract.  Each  night, 
according  to  the  Admirals  orders,  the  three  vessels  dreAv 
quite  close  to  each  other;  and,  in  the  present  instance,  no 
sooner  had  they  drawn  near  than  the  Pinzons  followed  by 
their  men,  all  armed,  jumped  on  the  deck  of  Columbus’ 
ship,  and  with  fury  in  their  looks,  and  steel  in  their  hands 
loudly  summoned  him  at  once  to  turn  the  prows  of  the  cara- 
vels to  Castile.  His  own  crew  and  pilots — even  the  crown 
officers  and  his  wife’s  nephew — had  joined  in  the  revolt.  He 
was  “alone  against  all ! ” He  had  exhausted  words;  besides 
terror-stricken  men  neither  hear  nor  reason.  Yet  this  great 


< Tbe  Pinzoui. 


66 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


man,  equal  to  every  emergency,  calmed  the  fury  of  those  re- 
bellious spirits;  but  far  from  yielding  to  their  demands  he 
boldly  declared  in  a tone  of  authorit}-  which  only  a hero  of 
iron  resolution  can  assume, that  their  complaints  were  in  vain 
—that  he  had  started  to  go  to  the  Indies — and  that  neither 
man  nor  devil  could  turn  him  from  his  course  until,  with  the 
assistance  of  Heaven,  he  would  reach  the  shores  he  sought. 
Wonderful  to  relate  this  surging  mass  of  enraged  Span- 
iards became  suddenly  hushed  before  a lone  man — a for- 
eigner whom  they  detested!  Philosophy  cannot  explain 
such  a phenomenon.  It  stands  alone  in  history.  The  finger 
of  God  Avas  there.* 

Several  writers  go  to  the  trouble  of  stating  that  Columbus, 
when  threatened  by  his  crews,  promised  to  return  if  he  did 
not  find  land  in  three  days.  This  is  a fiction.  The  keen 
and  learned  Count  de  Lorgues,  after  carefully  examining  the 
whole  matter,  declares  that  the  assertions  about  the  three- 
days  promise,  “are  destitute  of  any  foundation.” 

Irving  also  Avrites:  “There  is  no  authority  for  such  an 
assertion.” 

From  the  daAvn  of  the  next  morning,  the  supernatural  aid 
Avhich  sustained  him  against  such  an  outburst  of  Avrath,  be- 
came manifest.  Though  the  breezes  were  soft  and  balmy, 
yet  the  sea  swelled,  and  the  speed  of  the  caravels  increased. 
Numbers  of  petrels  were  seen.  A reed,  a green  bulrush,  a 
small  plank,  a branch  of  a tree  bearing  some  red  fruit,  and  a 
stick  which  appeared  to  be  carved  Avith  a knife,  were  observed 
on  different  occasions  during  the  day.  Such  signs  sustained 
the  drooping  hopes  of  the  sailors. 

The  sun  went  doAvn  flaming  into  the  vast  and  solitary 
ocean.  Naught  but  the  horizon  on  its  pure  azure  AA'ere  pre- 
sented to  the  eye.  No  vapor  indicated  that  land  Avas  near 
but  suddenly — as  if  by  inspiration — Columbus  changed  hi 
course  somev^hat,  and  ordered  the  helmsman  to  steer  du? 
Avest.  As  the  caravels  came  together,  all  Joined,  according 


' Writing  of  this  event  several  months  aftenvards  Columbus  said  that  when  his  crews  “•  were 
all  resolved  with  one  accord  to  return,  and  had  revolted  against  him.  setting  at  naught  his  threat- 
enings,  the  eternal  God  gave  him  the  strength  and  courage  he  needed,  and  sustained  him  alone 
against  all.” 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


67 


to  custom,  in  singing  the  Salve  Regina.,  at  the  conclusion  of 
which  the  Admiral  made  them  a touching  discourse.  He 
spoke  of  the  mercy  of  that  good  God  who  had  enabled  them 
to  reach  seas  never  cut  by  keel  before.  He  asked  them  to 
raise  their  hearts  in  gratitude,  and  vanquish  their  fears,  for 
that  the  fulfillment  of  their  hopes  was  near  at  hand.  That 
very  night,  he  said,  would  see  the  end  of  their  memorable 
voyage.  He  finally  recommended  all  to  watch  and  pray  as 
their  eyes  would  behold  land  before  morning.  He  ordered 
the  pilots  to  lessen  sail  after  midnight,  and  promised,  be- 
udes  the  Queen’s  premium,  to  give  a velvet  doublet  to  the 
person  who  would  first  announce  land.  Columbus  then  re- 
turned to  his  cabin.  What  passed  there  in  the  secret  of  his 
heart  has  not  been  given  to  history. 

The  greatest  animation  prevailed  throughout  the  ships ; 
not  an  eye  was  closed  that  night.  About  ten  o’clock,  the 
Admiral  mounted  the  poop.  Scarcely  had  he  got  there, 
when  his  eagle  glance  seemed  to  discern  a light  glimmering 
in  the  distance.  Fearing  that  his  eager  hopes  might  deceive 
him  he  called  to  one  of  his  ofiicers  named  Peter  Gutierrez, 
and  demanded  whether  he  saw  a light  in  that  direction ; 
the  latter  replied  in  the  affirmative,  Columbus,  yet  doubt- 
ful whether  it  might  not  be  some  delusion  of  the  fancy, 
called  Roderic  Sanchez  of  Segovia,  and  made  the  same  in- 
quiry. By  the  time,  however,  the  latter  had  ascended  the 
round-house,  the  light  had  disappeared. 

They  saw  it  once  or  twice  afterwards  in  sudden  and  pass- 
ing gleams,  as  if  it  were  a torch  in  the  bark  of  a fisherman, 
rising  and  sinking  with  the  waves ; or  in  the  hands  of  some 
person  on  shore,  borne  up  and  down  as  he  walked  from 
house  to  house.  So  trancient  and  uncertain  were  tliese 
gleams,  that  few  attached  any  importance  to  them.  Colum- 
bus, however,  considered  them  as  certain  signs  of  land,  and, 
moreover,  that  the  land  was  inhabited. 

After  midnight  they  proceeded  cautiously,  the  Pinta 
being  considerably  in  advance.  Every  eye  was  straining 
through  the  gloom — every  heart  throbbing.  What  must 
have  been  the  feelings  of  the  great  and  good  man,  whose 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


mind  had  schemed,  whose  single  will  had  compassed,  so 
sublime  a deed?  Before  him  wrapped  in  darkness,  lay 
a world  awaiting  discovery  of  the  light  of  morning!  His 
name  was  now  the  heritage  of  fame.  No  history  of  man- 
kind could  pass  him  bj’’  unnoticed.  God  was  to  be  glorified. 
The  memory  of  that  night  would  live  till  the  end  of  time. 

At  two  A.  M.,  by  the  clock  of  the  Santa  Maria^z,  flash 
came  from  the  Pinta,  followed  by  a loud  report — the  signal 
gun.  It  was  no  false  alarm  this  time  Roderic  de  Triana  a 
sailor  on  the  Pinta,  had  sighted  land.  Columbus,  at  the 
sound  of  the  gun  fell  on  his  knees  and  chanted  the  Te 
Deum,  his  men  resjjonded  with  full  hearts.  Then  they  went 
wild  with  joy.  The  Admiral  ordered  the  sails  to  be  furled, 
and  the  ships  to  be  put  in  a state  of  defence,  for  it  was  im- 
possible to  say  what  the  next  daylight  might  reveal.  His 
officers  came  crowding  round  to  offer  their  congratulations 
and  their  genuine  reverence.  Now  they  no  longer  blamed 
his  obstinacy,  or  spoke  of  his  infatuation. 

It  was  Friday, ' the  1 2th  of  October,  1492.  At  dawn  there 
was  seen  issuing  from  the  mists,  a flowery  land  whose  groves, 
colored  by  the  first  golden  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  exhaled 
an  unknown  fragrance,  and  presented  smiling  scenes  to  the 
eye.  In  advancing,  the  men  saw  before  them  an  island  of 
considerable  extent,  level,  and  without  any  appearance  of 
mountains.  Thick  forests  bounded  the  horizon,  and  in  the 
midst  of  a glade  gleamed  the  pure  and  sparkling  waters  of 
a lake.  Green  willows  and  sunny  avenues  gave  half  glimps- 
es into  these  mysteries  of  solitude,  and  revealed  many  a 
scattered  dwelling,  seeming  by  its  rounded  form  and  roof  of 
dried  leaves,  to  resemble  a human  hive,  from  which  the 
curling  smoke  ascended  in  the  air,  greeting  the  glad  sun- 
beams of  that  early  hour.  Groups  of  half  naked  men, 
women,  and  children,  astonished  rather  than  alarmed,  came 
down  amongst  the  trees  upon  the  shore,  now  timidly  advanc- 
ing, and  again  returning,  showing  by  their  lively  attitudes 


> Friday — the  day  of  the  Redemption— was  always  a blessed  day  for  Columbus.  On  Friday  he 
sailed  from  Palos;  on  Friday  he  discovered  America;  on  Friday  he  planted  the  first  cross  in  tho 
New  World;  and  on  Friday  he  re-entered  Palos  in  triumph  ! 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


69- 


and  gestures,  mingled  fear,  curiosity,  and  admiration,  at  the 
sight  of  the  ships  and  the  strangers,  which  the  previous 
night  had  sent  them  on  the  waves. 

Columbus,  after  silently  gazing  upon  the  shore  of  that 
new  land,  so  often  pictured  and  so  magnificently  colored  in 
his  imagination,  beheld  it  yet  more  beautiful  than  he  had 
dreamed.  Joy  made  his  heart  beat  faster.  He  yearned 
impatiently  to  be  the  first  to  set  a European  foot  upon  these 
strange  sands,  and  plant  thereon  the  Cross  and  the  Spanish 
'flag,  the  standard  of  a conquest,  made  by  his  genius  for 
God  and  his  sovereigns.  But  he  restrained  his  own  anxiety, 
and  that  of  his  men  to  land,  wishing  to  invest  this  taking 
possession  of  a New  TVorld,  with  all  the  solemnity  befitting 
the  greatest  achievement  ever  accomplished  by  a navigator. 
Since  human  witnesses  were  wanting,  he  wished  to  call  God 
and  his  angels,  sea,  and  land,  and  sky,  to  bear  testimony 
to  his  victory  over  the  hitherto  unknown  world ! 

When  all  was  ready,  the  anchors  were  let  dowm,  orders 
were  given  to  man  the  boats,  and  Columbus  with  majestic 
countenance  and  great  recollection — as  one  who  walked  in 
the  presence  of  God — descended  into  his  own  cutter.  He 
was  richly  attired  in  the  costume  of  his  dignities.  A scarlet 
mantle  hung  from  his  shoulders,  and  he  held  displayed  in 
his  hand,  the  image  of  Jesus  Christ  on  the  royal  flag. 
The  Captains  of  the  Pinta  and  Nina,  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon 
and  Vincent  Yanez  Pinzon,  likewise  put  off  their  boats,  each 
bearing  the  banner  of  the  enterprise  emblazoned  with  a 
green  cross,  and  accompanied  by  a well-armed  detachment. 

With  mute  delight  and  all  the  elastic  ardor  of  youth,  the 
Admiral  stepped  on  shore.  Scarcely  had  he  touched  the 
new  land,  when  he  planted  in  it  the  standard  of  the  Cross. 
His  heart — great,  noble  heart  that  it  was — swelled  with 
gratitude.  In  adoration,  he  prostrated  himself  before  God. 
Three  times  bowing  his  head,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  he 
kissed  the  soil  to  which  he  was  conducted  by  the  divine  good- 
ness. The  sailors  participated  in  the  emotions  of  their  Com- 
mander, and  kneeling,  as  he  did,  elevated  a crucifix  in  the 
air.  Raising  his  countenance  towards  Heaven,  the  gratitudn 


70 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


of  his  soul  found  expression  in  that  beautiful  prayer  the 
first  accents  of  which  have  been  preserved  by  history : 

^‘•Lord!  Eternal  and  Almighty  God!  who  by  Thy 
sacred  word  hast  created  the  heavens,  the  earth,  and  the 
seas,  may  Thy  name  be  blessed  and  glorified  everywhere. 
May  Thy  Majesty  be  exalted,  who  hast  deigned  to  permit 
that  by  Thy  humble  servant,  Thy  sacred  name  should 
be  made  known  and  preached  in  this  other  part  of  the 
world.' ^ ‘ 

Standing  up  with  great  dignity,  he  displayed  the  standard 
of  the  Cross,  offering  up  to  Jesus  Christ  the  first  fruits  of 
his  discovery.  Of  himself  he  thought  not.  He  wished  to 
give  all  the  glory  to  God,  and  he  named  the  island  San  Sal- 
vador, which  means  “ Holy  Savior.” 

Columbus  then  drew  his  sword,  and  all  the  officers  doing 
the  same,  he  declared  that  he  took  possession  of  that  land  in 
the  name  of  our  Lord  for  the  Crown  of  Castile.  The  notary 
royal  was  ordered  to  draw  up  the  proceedings  in  prescribed 
form.  He  then  called  upon  all  present  to  take  the  oath  of 
obedience  to  him  as  Admiral,  Viceroy,  and  representative  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 

Not  only  did  his  lieutenants,  his  pilots, 'and  his  crews  swear 
obedience  to  the  Admiral,  but  they  were  overcome  with  wild 
joy,  and  filled  with  intense  reverence  for  one  whose  wonderous 
glance  had  penetrated  beyond  the  limits  of  the  visible  horizon, 
and  whom  they  had  so  lately  outraged  by  their  blind  rebel- 
lion. Overawed  by  his  mental  superiority, they  now  fell  at  his 
feet,  kissed  his  hands  and  clothes,  and,  for  a moment,  recog- 
nized the  dignity  and  true  grandeur  of  genius.  But  yester- 
day, they  considered  themselves  the  victims  of  his  obstinacy  ; 
to-day  they  felt  they  were  the  companions  of  his  success — ra- 
diant with  the  glory  against  which  they  had  so  lately  blas- 
phemed ! Such  is  human  nature.  Those  who  open  the  way 
to  truth  are  persecuted,  but  the  unthinking  world  gladly  in- 
herits their  victories. 

We  shall  now  glance  at  the  natives.  When,  at  the  dawn 


* This  prayer  of  Columbus  was  afterwards  repeated  by  order  of  the  Sovereigns  of  Castile,  in  sub- 
sequent  discoveries.  Cortes,  Balboa,  and  others  had  to  use  it  officially.-  Count  de  Lor^tttt. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


71 


c i day,  they  had  beheld  the  ships  hovering  on  the  coast, 
(.hey  supposed  them  to  be  some  monsters,  which  had  issued 
from  the  deep  during  the  night.  Their  veering  about,  with- 
out any  apparent  effort,  and  the  shifting  and  furling  of  their 
sails,  resembling  huge  wings,  tilled  them  with  astonishment. 
When  they  beheld  the  boats  approach  the  shore,  and  a 
number  of  strange  beings,  clad  in  glittering  steel,  or  raiment 
of  various  colors,  landing  upon  the  beach,  they  lied  in  af- 
fright to  the  woods.  Finding,  however,  that  there  was  no 
attempt  to  pursue  or  molest  them,  they  gradually  recovered 
from  their  terror,  and  approached  the  Spaniards  with  great 
awe,  frequently  prostrating  themselves,  and  making  signs 
of  adoration. 

During  the  ceremony  of  taking  possession,  they  remained 
gazing,  in  timid  admiration,  at  the  complexion,  the  beards, 
the  shining  armour,  and  splendid  dress  of  the  Spaniards. 
The  Admiral  particularly  attracted  their  attention,  from  his 
commanding  height,  his  air  of  authority,  his  scarlet  dress, 
and  the  deference  paid  to  him  by  his  companions.  When  they 
had  still  further  recovered  from  their  fears,  they  approached 
the  Spaniards,  touched  their  beards,  and  examined  their 
hands  and  faces,  admiring  their  whiteness.  Following  the 
example  set  them  by  Columbus,  the  mariners  received  with 
smiles  of  kindness  those  artless  children  of  the  forest,  and 
quietly  submitted  to  their  examinations. 

The  wondering  savages  were  won  by  this  benignity;  they 
now  supposed  that  the  ships  had  sailed  out  of  the  crystal 
firmament  which  bounded  their  horizon,  or  had  descended 
from  above,  on  their  ample  wings,  and  that  these  marvellous 
beings  were  natives  of  the  skies. 

The  people  of  the  island  were  no  less  objects  of  curiosity 
to  the  Spaniards,  differing,  as  they  did,  from  any  race  of 
men  they  had  ever  seen.  They  were  entirely  naked,  of  a 
moderate  stature,  well-shaped,  of  a copper  hue,  with  agree- 
able features,  lofty  foreheads,  and  fine  eyes.  The  hair  was 
coarse  and  straight;  they  had  no  beards,  and  were  painted 
with  a variety  of  colors.  They  appeared  to  be  a simple 
and  artless  race,  and  of  gentle  and  friendly  dispositions. 


72 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


Their  only  anus  were  lances,  hardened  at  the  end  by  fire,  or 
pointed  with  a flint  or  the  bone  of  a fish.'  Columbus  dis- 
tributed among  them,  colored  caps,  glass  beads,  hawk’s 
bells,  and  other  trifles,  which  they  received  as  inestimable 
gifts,  and,  decorating  themselves  with  them,  were  wonder- 
iilly  delighted  with  their  finery. 

After  Columbus  had  completed  the  formalities  of  taking 
possession  of  the  island,  he  ordered  the  carpenters  to  con- 
hruct  a large  wooden  Cross.  This  was  soon  done.  At  his 
lesire,  the  hole  in  which  the  pole  of  the  banner  had  been 
planted  in  this  shore  was  enlarged.  Into  this  hole  was 
placed  the  end  of  the  erected  cross,  which  was  sustained  by 
the  Admiral  himself,  while  the  hymn  Vexilla  Megis, 

“ The  banners  of  Heaven’s  King  advance. 

The  mystery  of  the  Cross  shines  forth,” 

was  chanted  by  the  w’hole  party.  When  the  sacred  sign  was 
solidly  fixed  in  the  soil,  he  intoned  that  grand  hymn  of  vic- 
tory, the  Te  Deum.  Thus  did  the  great  Columbus  erect  the 
Sign  of  Redemption  in  the  New  World,  not  merely  as  a mark 
of  prior  occupation,  but  as  a memorial  of  the  fact  that  he 
took  possession  of  this  land  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ. 
As  the  day  was  now  growing  late, he  said  evening  prayers  be- 
fore the  rough  Cross,  and  on  finishing  this  pious  act,  he  took 
up  the  flag  of  the  expedition,  and  returned  on  board  the 
Santa  Maria.  How  grandly  did  this  immortal  Catholic 
hero  occupy  his^r^^  day  in  America! 

The  island  which  Columbus  had  just  offered  to  Cod,  and 
named  San  Salvador,’  was  called  in  the  language  of  the  na- 
tives “Guanahani.”  It  is  one  of  that  group  which  ge- 
ographers now  term  the  Bahama  Islands.  The  Admiral  sup- 
posed it  to  be  at  the  extremity  of  India,  and  therefore 
called  the  inhabitants  Indians — a name  which  has  since 


* There  was  no  iron  to  be  seen,  nor  did  they  appear  acquainted  with  its  properties;  for,  when  s 
drawn  sword  was  presented  to  them,  they  unguardedly  took  it  by  the  edge. — Irving. 

’ “ Not  finding  the  name  San  Salvador  fine  enough  for  their  marine  charts”  writes  Count  de 
Lorgucs,  •*  English  Protestants  have  substituted  Cat  for  it  ; and  in  their  atlases  the  Island  of  the 
Holy  Saviour  is  nobly  called  Cat  Island.'"  Could  the  blindness  of  bigotry  and  the  dnllnesa  ol 
materialistic  stupidity  go  further  f 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


73 


been  extended  to  all  the  aborigines  of  the  New  World.  In 
his  earlier  explorations  it  seems  that  the  Asia  of  Marco  Polo 
was  ever  present  to  his  thoughts. 

San  Salvador  was  soon  explored.  Among  its  natural  ad- 
vantages, is  noticed  “stone  for  building  churches.”  The 
poor  natives  in  all  parts  of  it  received  the  strangers  with  the 
most  sincere  hospitality.  Seven  of  the  Indians  were  easily 
induced  to  go  with  Columbus,  and  he  seems  to  have  distrib- 
uted them  among  the  three  vessels.  One  of  them  deserted, 
but  others  were  added  from  Cuba  and  San  Domingo.  He 
designed  to  present  them  to  their  Catholic  Majesties  to  have 
them  instructed  in  the  Faith,  and  then  to  send  them  back 
to  their  country  to  help  forward  the  Avork  of  conversion. 

When  he  sailed  away  from  San  Salvador,  the  Admiral,  at 
once  found  himself  in  an  archipelago,  pleasantly  embarrassed 
by  the  multitude  of  islands  offered  to  his  choice.  He 
steered  for  the  largest,  which  he  named  Santa  Maria  de  la 
Concepcion.  Another  island  he  named  Fernandina,  and 
one  Isabella. 

The  inhabitants  approached  the  Spaniards  with  offerings 
of  fruit,  and  birds,  and  cotton,  regarding  them  as  super- 
human beings.  When  they  landed,  in  quest  of  water,  the* 
simple  Indians  took  them  to  the  coolest  springs,  and  sweet- 
est and  freshest  runs,  tilling  the  casks,  rolling  them  to  the 
boats,  and  seeking  in  every  way  to  gratify  them. 

The  lovely  scenery  of  these  islands  enchanted  Columbus. 
“I  know  not,”  he  wrote,  “where  to  go  first,  nor  are  my  eyes 
ever  weary  of  gazing  on  the  beautiful  verdure.  The  singing 
of  the  birds  is  such,  that  it  seems  as  if  one  would  never 
desire  to  depart  hence.  There  are  flocks  of  parrots  that 
obscure  the  sun,  and  other  birds  of  many  kinds,  large  and 
small,  entirely  different  from  ours.  Trees  also  of  a thousand 
species,  each  having  its  particular  fruit.” 

Everywhere  he  treated  the  natives  with  studious  kindness, 
repressing  the  least  attempt  at  harshness  on  the  part  of  his 
men.  He  thus  succeeded  in  inspiring  complete  confidence. 
The  faith  was  his  first  thought,  but  gold  was  the  second.  In 
every  place  he  touched  he  inquired  where  gold  was  to  be 


74 


CHRISTO  PEER  COL  UMB  US. 


found.  He  had  a keen  eye  to  every  little  ornament  of  gold. 
He  candidly  announced  that  he  should  only  stop  where 
there  was  a prospect  of  collecting  gold ; and  he  adds  that, 
with  the  help  of  our  Lord,  he  felt  sure  of  success  in  his 
search  for  gold.  It  is  a curious  manifestation  of  character. 
Love  of  gold  is  not  one  of  the  usual  signs  of  sanctity.  But 
Columbus  wanted  gold  for  two  great  reasons;  (1)  He  wished 
to  enhance  the  importance  of  the  discoveries,  for  all  his 
loftiest  dreams  depended  for  their  realization,  as  he  in  his 
ignorance  of  the  future  fondly  thought,  upon  causing  a 
stream  of  European  enterprise  to  flow  into  the  dominions  of 
the  Great  Khan.  (2)  He  desired  to  amass  treasure  for  the 
second  great  object  of  his  life,  the  recovery  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  an  object  early  contemplated  and  never  aban- 
doned to  his  last  breath. 

From  Isabella,  Columbus  stood  across  to  Cuba,  convinced 
that  it  must  be  the  Island  of  Cipango,  mentioned  by  the 
famous  Marco  Polo'.  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon  succeeded  in 
persuading  him  that  it  was  the  mainland  of  Asia.  If  it  was 
Asia,  then  the  Grand  Kahn  was  accessible.  He  understood 
the  Indians  to  speak  of  a great  king,  four  days’  journey 
distant,  and  he  sent  off  two  ambassadors,  one  of  whom  was 
He  Torres,  whose  knowledge  of  Arabic  might  help  him  with 
the  Grand  Kahn  or  some  of  his  vassal  sovereigns.  Two 
Indian  interpreters  made  up  the  party.  They  only  found  a 
village  of  fifty  huts,  but  the  natives  everywhere  greeted 
them  kindly.  It  was  on  this  journey,  the  Spaniards  discov- 
ered that  humble  but  most  useful  root,  the  potato ; and  for 
the  first  time,  they  witnessed  that  noAV  familiar  but  curious 
practice  known  as  smoking.^ 


’ Cuba  broke  upon  Columbus  like  an  elysium.  “It  is  the  most  beautiful  island,”  he  says, 
“ that  eyes  ever  beheld,  full  of  excellent  ports  and  deep  rivers." — Irvirig. 

On  their  way  back,  they  for  the  first  time,  witnessed  the  use  of  a weed,  which  the  ingenious 
caprice  of  man  has  since  converted  into  a universal  luxury,  in  defiance  of  the  opposition  of  the 
senses.  They  beheld  several  of  the  natives  going  about  with  fire-brands,  in  their  hands,  and  cer- 
tain dried  herbs,  which  they  rolled  up  in  a leaf,  and  lighting  one  end,  put  the  other  in  their 
mouths,  and  continued  exhaling  and  puffing  out  smoke.  A roll  of  this  kind  they  called  a tobacco, 
a name  since  transferred  to  the  plant  of  which  the  rolls  were  made.  The  Spaniards  although 
prepared  to  meet  with  wonders,  were  struck  with  astonishment  at  this  singular  and  apparently 
nauseous  indulgence.  Irving. 

The  pitiful  age  of  pipes  and  cigars,  and  the  days  that  were  to  witness  the  abomination  of  chew 
i«£!  the  vile  weed,  had  not  vet  come  f 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


75 


During  the  ahsence  of  his  envoys  Columbus  industriously 
collected  information.  The  Cubans,  in  reply  to  his  inquir- 
ies about  gold,  kept  pointing  eastward  and  repeating  the 
name  Babeque.  Although  he  was  not  a little  perplexed  to 
find  gross  ignorance  of  the  ways  of  civilized  life  instead  of 
oriental  splendor,  and  although  he  must  have  thought  the 
great  monarch  very  careless  about  some  of  his  subjects,  he 
still  did  not  doubt  that  he  was  on  the  confines  of  Asia,  and 
it  might  be  that  Babeque  was  Cipango.  He  determined  to 
try,  for  he  was  anxious  to  solve  the  mystery,  and  to  dis- 
cover some  more  satisfactory  traces  of  imperial  government. 
He,  therefore,  abandoned  his  north-west  course,  which 
would  soon  have  proved  Cuba  to  be  an  island,  and,  still 
dreaming  of  gold,  coasted  in  the  opposite  dij-ection.  He 
named  the  beautiful  archipelago  near  Puerto  del  Principe, 
at  the  east  of  Cuba,  “Sea  of  our  Lady.”  As  he  went  along 
he  erected  crosses  and  scattered  pious  names,  but  of  these 
very  few  have  come  down  to  our  times. 

As  Columbus  was  finishing  the  coasting  of  the  isle  of  Cuba, 
the  Pinta  cruelly  deserted  him.  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon  tried 
to  make  out  afterwards  that  the  separation  was  accidental ; 
but  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  yielded  to  temptation,  and 
went  away  to  find  gold  for  himself.  He  deliberately  dis- 
obeyed the  Admiral’s  signal  to  return,  and  as  the  Pinta  was 
well  able  to  outstrip  the  other  vessels,  he  was  soon  out  of 
sight.  Columbus  was  indignant,  but  even  in  his  distress  he 
remained  keenly  alive  to  the  beauty  of  nature  in  that  fa- 
vored land.  His  emotions  were  described  in  their  first  fresh- 
ness in  an  enthusiastic  letter  to  the  sovereigns.  The  glo- 
rious scenery,  the  wild  exuberance  of  vegetable  life,  the 
perfumed  breeze,  the  water  pure  as  crystal,  all  the  gifts  of  the 
Creator  scattered  with  generous  hand  seemed  to  speak  of 
peace  and  happiness.  The  passions  of  men  can  make  the 
fairest  land  into  a hell  upon  earth. 

Columbus  for  several  days  continued  exploring  the  coast 
of  Cuba  until  he  reached  the  eastern  end,  to  which,  from 
supposing  it  the  extreme  point  of  Asia,  he  gave  the  name 
of  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  end.  While 


76 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


steering  at  large  beyond  this  cape,  undetermined  what  course 
to  take,  he  descried  high  mountains  towering  above  the 
clear  horizon  to  the  south-east,  and  giving  evidence  of  an  isl- 
and of  great  extent.  He  immediately  stood  for  it,  to  the 
great  consternation  of  his  Indian  guides,  who  assured  him 
by  signs  that  the  inhabitants  had  but  one  eye,  and  were 
fierce  and  cruel  cannibals. 

It  was  the  first  island  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  His- 
pcmiola,  and  which  is  now  known  as  San  Domingo,  or  Hayti. 
Thither  he  turned  his  course,  and  reaching  the  western  point 
coasted  slowly  along  the  northern  side  of  the  island,  every- 
where conciliating  the  good  will  of  the  natives.  He  even 
received  visits  from  several  caciques'  and  a very  pressing 
invitation  with  rich  presents  from  Guacanagari,  one  of  the 
five  principal  caciques  of  the  island. 

The  mountains  of  Hispaniola  were  higher  and  more  rocky 
than  those  of  the  other  islands,  but  the  rocks  rose  from 
among  rich  forests.  The  mountains  swept  down  into  lux- 
uriant plains  and  green  savannahs,  while  the  appearance  of 
the  cultivated  fields,  with  numerous  fires  at  night,  and  the 
columns  of  smoke  which  rose  in  various  parts  by  day — all 
showed  it  to  be  populous — it  rose  before  them  in  all  the 
splendor  of  tropical  vegetation,  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
islands  in  the  world,  and  unhappily  doomed  to  be  one  of  the 
most  unfortunate. 

On  the  evening  of  the  6th  of  December  Columbus  entered 
a harbor  at  the  western  end  of  the  island,  to  which  he  gave 
the  name  of  St.  Nicholas.  Not  being  able  to  meet  with  any 
of  the  inhabitants,  who  had  fled  from  their  dwellings,  he 
coasted  along  the  northern  side  of  the  island  to  another  har- 
bor, which  he  called  Conception.  Here  the  sailors  caught 
several  kinds  of  fish  similar  to  those  of  their  own  country  ; 
they  heard  also  the  notes  of  a bird  which  sings  in  the  night, 
and  which  they  mistook  for  the  nightingale,  and  they  fan- 
cied that  the  features  of  the  surrounding  country  resembled 
those  of  the  more  beautiful  provinces  of  Spain.  It  was  in 


> indUn  Chiefi. 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB  US. 


77 


consequence  of  this  idea  that  the  Admiral  had  named  it  His- 
paniola, or  “Little  Spain.” 

After  various  attempts  to  obtain  a communication  with 
the  natives,  three  sailors  succeeded  in  overtaking  a young 
and  handsome  female,  who  was  flying  from  them,  and 
brought  their  wild  beauty  in  triumph  to  the  ships.  She  was 
treated  with  the  greatest  kindness,  and  dismissed  finely 
clothed,  and  loaded  with  presents  of  beads,  hawk’s  bells, 
and  other  baubles. 

Confident  of  the  favorable  impression  her  treatment,  and 
the  sight  of  her  presents,  must  produce,  Columbus,  on  the 
following  day,  sent  nine  men,  with  an  interpreter,  to  her 
village  which  was  situated  in  a fine  valley,  on  the  banks  of 
a beautiful  river,  and  contained  about  a thousand  houses. 
The  natives  fled  at  first,  but,  being  re-assured  by  the  inter- 
preter, came  back  to  the  number  of  two  thousand,  and  ap- 
proached the  Spainards  with  awe  and  trembling,  often  paus- 
ing and  putting  their  hands  upon  their  heads  in  token  of 
reverence  and  submission. 

The  female  also,  came  borne  in  triumph  on  the  shoulders 
of  her  countrymen,  followed  by  a multitude,  and  preceded 
by  her  husband,  who  was  full  of  gratitude  for  the  kindness 
with  vrhich  she  had  been  treated.  The  natives  conducted 
the  Spaniards  to  their  houses,  and  set  before  them  cassava 
bread,  fish,  roots,  and  fruits  of  various  kinds ; for  a frank 
hospitality  reigned  throughout  the  island,  where  as  yet  the 
passion  of  avarice  was  unknown. ' 

The  Spaniards  returned  to  the  vessels  enraptured  with  the 
beauty  of  the  country,  surpassing,  as  they  said,  even  the 
luxuriant  valley  of  Cordova ; all  that  they  complained  of 
was,  that  they  saw  no  signs  of  riches  among  the  natives. 

Continuing  along  the  coast,  Columbus  was  visited  by  a 


' Of  these  Indians  Columbus  wrote  to  a friend  ; “ True  it  is  that  after  they  felt  confidence,  and 
lost  their  fears  of  ns,  they  were  so  liberal  with  what  they  possessed,  that  It  would  not  be  be- 
lieved by  those  who  had  not  seen  it.  If  anything  was  asked  of  them,  they  never  said  no.  but 
rather  gave  it  cheerfully,  and  showed  as  much  friendship  as  if  they  gave  their  very  hearts  ; and 
whether  the  thing  was  of  value,  or  of  little  price,  they  were  content  with  whatever  was  given  in 
return The  women  seem  to  work  more  than  the  men  ; and  I have  not  been  able  to  un- 

derstand whether  they  possess  individual  property  ; but  rather  think  that  whatever  one  has  all 
the  rest  share,  especially,  in  all  articles  of  provisions.” 


78 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


young  cacique,  apparently  of  great  importance,  who  came 
borne  on  a litter  by  four  men,  and  attended  by  two  hundred 
of  his  subjects.  He  entered  the  cabin  where  the  Admiral  was 
dining,  and  took  his  seat  beside  him,  with  a frank  unembar- 
rassed air,  while  two  old  men,  who  were  his  councillors, 
seated  themselves  at  his  feet,  watching  his  lips,  as  if  to  catch 
and  communicate  his  ideas.  If  any  thing  Avere  given  him 
to  eat,  he  merely  tasted  it,  and  sent  it  to  his  followers,  main- 
taining an  air  of  great  gravity  and  dignity.  After  dinner, 
he  presented  the  Admiral  Avith  a belt  curiously  wrought,  and 
two  pieces  of  gold.  Columbus  made  him  various  presents 
in  return,  and  showed  him  a coin  bearing  the  likenesses  of 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  endeavoring  to  giA’'e  him  an  idea  of 
the  power  and  grandeur  of  those  sovereigns.  The  cacique, 
hoAvever,  could  not  be  made  to  believe  that  there  Avas  a region 
on  earth  which  produced  such  wonderful  people  and  Avon- 
derful  things,  but  persisted  in  the  idea  that  the  Spaniards 
were  more  than  mortal,  and  that  the  country  and  sovereigns 
they  spoke  of  must  exist  somewhere  in  the  skies. 

It  was  Christmas  Eve,  and  the  sea  was  as  calm  as  a lake, 
with  a light  wind  bloAving  off  the  shore — no  rocks  Avere  near 
— Columbus  felt  that  he  might  now  safely  seek  the  sleep  he 
so  much  needed.  The  man  whom  he  left  in  charge  thought 
he  might  safely  follow  the  example,  and  with  gross  disre- 
gard of  a standing  order,  delegated  his  duty  to  a boy  on 
board,  and  like  the  Admiral  Avent  to  sleep.  The  rest  of  the 
mariners  on  duty  did  the  same,  and  in  a little  while  the 
whole  crew  was  buried  in  repose.  In  the  meantime  the 
treacherous  currents — which  run  SAviftly  along  this  coast — 
carried  the  ship  smoothly,  but  with  great  violence  upon  a 
sand-bank.  The  boy,  feeling  the  rudder  strike,  and  hearing 
the  rushing  of  the  sea,  cried  out  for  help.  Columbus — who 
even  in  sleep  forgot  not  his  heavy  responsibility — was  the 
first  to  take  the  alarm,  and  was  soon  followed  by  the  master 
of  the  ship,  and  his  delinquent  companions.  The  Admiral 
ordered  them  to  carry  out  an  anchor  astern,  that  they  might 
warp  the  vessel  off.  They  sprang  into  the  boat,  but,  being 
confused  and  seized  Avith  a panic,  instead  of  obeying  the 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMbUS. 


79 


commands  of  Columbus,  they  rowed  off  to  the  other  caravel. 
Vincent  Yahez  Pinzon,  who  commanded  the  latter,  re- 
proached them  -with  their  cowardice,  and  refused  to  admit 
them  on  board ; and,  manning  his  boat,  hastened  to  the 
assistance  of  the  Admiral. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  ship  swinging  across  the  stream,  was 
set  more  and  more  upon  the  bank.  Efforts  were  made  to 
lighten  her,  by  cutting  away  the  mast,  but  in  vain.  The 
keel  became  bedded  in  the  sand ; the  seams  opened,  and  the 
breakers  beat  against  her,  until  she  fell  over  on  one  side. 
Fortunately,  the  weather  continued  calm,  or  both  ship  and 
crew  must  have  perished.  The  Admiral  abandoned  the  wreck, 
and  took  refuge,  \Aith  his  men,  on  board  of  the  caravel. 

All  this  happened  but  a few  miles  away  from  the  harbor 
of  Guacanagari,  and  when  the  Admii’al  sent  to  inform  the 
Indian  chief  of  the  misfortune,  he  met  \\'ith  ready  sympathy 
and  the  most  delicate  kindness.  When  Guacanagari  heard 
of  the  mishap  of  his  honored  guest,  he  was  so  much  afflicted 
as  to  shed  tears ; and  never,  in  civilized  country,  were  the 
rites  of  hospitality  more  scrupulously  observed,  than  by  this 
uncultured  savage.  He  assembled  his  people,  and  sent  off 
all  his  canoes  to  aid  in  unloading  the  wreck.  The  effects 
were  landed,  and  deposited  near  his  dwelling,  and  guard  set 
over  them,  until  houses  could  be  prepared,  in  which  they 
could  be  stored. 

There  seemed,  however,  no  disposition  among  the  natives 
to  pilfer  or  conceal  the  most  trifling  article.  On  the  con- 
trary, they  manifested  as  deep  a concern  as  if  the  disaster 
had  happened  to  themselves,  and  their  only  study  was  how 
they  could  administer  relief  and  consolation.  Columbus 
was  greatly  affected  by  this  unexpected  goodness.  “Sck 
loving,  so  tractable,  so  peaceable  are  these  people,”  he 
wrote,  “that  I swear  to  your  Majesties,  there  is  not  in  the 
world  a better  nation  nor  a better  land.  They  love  their 
neighbors  as  themselves ; and  their  discourse  is  ever  sweet 
and  gentle,  and  accompanied  with  a smile ; and  though  it  is 
true  that  they  are  naked,  yet  their  manners  are  decorous 
and  praiseworthy.' 


* Irving. 


80 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


When  the  chief  met  vsdth  Columbus,  he  was  much  moved 
at  beholding  his  dejection,  and  olfered  him  every  thing  he 
possessed  that  could  be  of  service  to  him.  He  invited  him 
on  shore,  where  a banquet  was  prepared  for  his  entertain- 
ment, consisting  of  various  kinds  of  fish  and  fruit,  and  an 
animal  called  Utia  by  the  natives,  which  resembled  a cony. 
After  the  collation,  he  conducted  him  to  a beautiful  grove, 
where  upwards  of  a thousand  of  the  natives  were  assembled, 
all  perfectly  naked,  who  performed  several  of  their  games 
and  dances.  When  the  Indians  had  finished  their  games, 
Columbus  gave  them  an  entertainment  in  return  calculated 
to  impress  them  with  a formidable  opinion  of  the  military 
power  of  the  Spaniards.  A Castilian,  who  had  served  in 
the  wars  of  Granada,  exhibited  his  skill  in  shooting  with  a 
Moorish  bow,  to  the  great  admiration  of  the  cacique.  A 
cannon  and  an  arquebus  were  likewise  discharged;  at  the 
sound  of  which  the  Indians  fell  to  the  ground,  as  though 
they  had  been  struck  by  a thunderbolt. 

When  they  saw  the  effect  of  the  ball  rending  and  shiver- 
ing the  trees,  they  were  filled  with  dismay.  On  being  told, 
however,  that  the  Spaniards  would  protect  them  with  these 
arms,  against  the  invasions  of  their  dreaded  enemies,  the 
Caribs,  their  alarm  was  changed  into  confident  exultation, 
considering  themselves  under  the  protection  of  the  sons  of 
heaven,  who  had  come  from  the  skies,  armed  with  thunder 
and  lightning.  The  cacique  placed  a coronet  of  gold  on  the 
head  of  Columbus,  and  hung  plates  of  the  same  metal  round 
his  neck,  and  dispensed  liberal  presents  among  his  follow- 
ers. Whatever  trifles  were  given  in  return  were  regarded 
with  reverence  as  celestial  gifts,  and  were  said  by  the  Indi- 
ans to  have  come  from  Turey,  or  heaven.' 

When  Guacanagari  perceived  the  great  value  which  the 
Admiral  attached  to  gold,  he  informed  him,  that  there  was  a 

' Everything  from  the  hands  of  the  Spaniards,  even  a rusty  piece  of  iron,  an  end  of  a strap,  or 
a head  of  a nail,  had  a hidden  and  supernatnral  value.  Hawk’s  bells,  however,  were  sought  by 
the  Indians  with  a mania  only  equalled  by  that  of  the  Spaniards  for  gold.  They  conld  not  con- 
tain their  ecstasies  at  the  sound,  dancing  and  playing  a thousand  antics.  On  one  occasion  an  In- 
dian gave  half  a handful  of  gold  dust  in  exchange  for  one  of  these  toys,  and  no  sooner  was  he  in 
possession  of  it,  than  he  bounded  away  to  the  woods,  looking  often  behind  him,  fearing  the 
Spaniards  might  repent  of  hanng  parted  so  cheaply  with  such  an  inestimable  jewel! — Irving. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUHBL'^i. 


81 


place,  not  far  off,  where  it  abounded;  and  he  promised  to 
procure  him,  from  thence,  as  much  as  he  desired.  This  gold- 
en region,  was  called  Cibao,  and  lay  among  high  and  rug- 
ged mountains.  The  cacique  who  ruled  over  it  owned  many 
rich  mines,  and  had  banners  of  wrought  gold. 

Three  houses  had  been  given  to  the  shipwrecked  crew  for 
their  residence.  Living  on  shore,  and  mingling  freely  with 
the  natives,  they  became  fascinated  by  their  easy,  idle  mode 
of  life.  They  were  governed  by  their  caciques  vuth  an  abso- 
lute but  patriarchal  and  easy  rule,  and  existed  in  that  state 
of  primitive  and  savage  simplicity  which  some  philosophers 
have  fondly  pictured  as  the  most  enviable  on  earth. 

“It  is  certain,”  says  old  Peter  Martyr,  “that  the  land 
among  these  people,  is  as  common  as  the  sun  and  water;  and 
that  ‘mine  and  thine,’  the  seeds  of  all  mischief  have  no 
place  with  them.  They  are  content  with  so  little,  that,  in  so 
large  a country,  they  have  rather  superfluity  than  scarce- 
ness; so  that  they  seem  to  live  in  a golden  world,  without 
toil,  in  open  gardens,  neither  intrenched,  nor  shut  up  by 
walls  or  hedges.  They  deal  truly  with  one  another,  without 
laws,  or  books,  or  judges.” 

In  fact,  they  seemed  to  disquiet  themselves  about  nothing; 
a few  fields,  cultivated  almost  without  labor,  furnished  roots 
and  vegetables,  their  groves  Avere  laden  with  delicious  fruit, 
and  the  coast  and  rivers  abounded  AA'ith  fish.  Softened  by 
the  indulgence  of  nature,  a great  part  of  the  day  was  passed 
by  them  in  indolent  repose,  in  their  luxury  of  sensation  in- 
spired by  a serene  sky  and  voluptuous  climate,  and  in  the 
evening  they  danced  in  their  fragrant  groves,  to  their  na- 
tional songs,  or  the  rude  sound  of  their  sylvan  drums. 
When  the  Spanish  mariners  looked  back  upon  their  own 
toilsome  and  painful  life,  and  reflected  upon  the  cares  and 
hardships  that  must  still  be  their  lot,  should  they  return  to 
Europe,  they  regarded  with  a wistful  eye  the  easy  and  idle 
existence  of  the  Indians,  and  many  of  them,  representing 
to  the  Admiral  the  difficulty  and  danger  of  embarking  so 
many  persons  in  one  small  caravel,  entreated  permission  to 
remain  in  the  island. 


82 


CHRIS  TOPHER  COL  TIME  US. 


Columbus  consented,  for  he  began  to  look  upon  the  ship- 
wreck as  a Divine  interposition,  guiding  him  to  the  most 
advantageous  spot  for  establishing  a colony.  The  wreck  of 
the  caravel  would  furnish  materials  and  arms  for  a fortress; 
and  the  people  who  should  remain  in  the  island  could  ex- 
plore it,  learn  the  language  of  the  natives,  and  collect  gold, 
while  the  Admiral  returned  to  Spain  for  reinforcements. 

Guacanagari  was  overjoyed  at  finding  that  some  of  these 
wonderful  strangers  were  to  remain  for  the  defence  of  his 
island,  and  that  the  Admiral  intended  to  revisit  it.  He 
readily  gave  permission  to  build  the  fort,  and  his  subjects 
eagerly  aided  in  its  construction,  little  dreaming  that  they 
were  assisting  to  place  on  their  necks  the  galling  yoke  of 
perpetual  and  toilsome  slavery.  In  ten  days  the  fortress 
was  completed.  It  consisted  of  a strong  wooden  tower,  with 
a vault  beneath,  and  the  whole  was  surrounded  by  a wide 
ditch.  It  was  supplied  with  the  ammunition  and  mounted 
with  the  cannon  saved  from  the  wreck.  Columbus  gave  the 
fortress  and  harbor  the  name  of  La  Nanidad,  or  The  Nati\  - 
ity,  in  memorial  of  having  been  preserved  from  the  wreck  of 
his  ship  on  Christmas  day. 

From  the  number  of  volunteers  that  offered  to  remain,  he 
selected  thirty-nine  of  the  most  trustworthy,  putting  them 
under  the  command  of  De  Arana,  notary  and  alguazil  of  the 
armament.  In  case  of  his  death,  Peter  Gutierrez  was  to 
take  the  command,  and  he  in  like  case,  to  be  succeeded  by 
Roderic  de  Escobido.  Columbus  then  charged  the  men  to 
be  obedient  to  their  commanders,  respectful  to  Guacanagari 
and  his  chieftains,  and  circumspect  and  friendly  in  their  in- 
tercourse with  the  natives.  As  their  safety  would  depend 
upon  their  united  force,  he  warned  them  not  to  separate  nor 
to  stray  beyond  the  territory  of  the  friendly  cacique.  He 
enjoined  it  upon  the  officers,  to  employ  themselves  in  gain- 
ing a knowledge  of  the  island,  in  amassing  gold  and  spices, 
and  in  searching  for  a more  safe  and  convenient  harbor. 

Before  his  departure,  he  gave  the  natives  another  military 
exhibition,  to  increase  their  awe  of  the  white  men.  The 
Spaniards  performed  skirmishes  and  mock  fights,  with 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


83 


swords,  buc^ers,  lances,  crossbows,  and  firearms.  The  In- 
dians were  astonished  at  the  keenness  of  the  steeled  weap- 
ons, and  the  deadly  power  of  the  crossbows  and  muskets : 
but  nothing  equalled  their  awe  and  admiration  when  the 
cannons  were  discharged  from  the  fortress,  wrapping  it  in 
smoke,  shaking  the  forests  with  their  thunder,  and  shivering 
the  stoutest  trees. 

When  Columbus  took  leave  of  Guacanagari,  the  kind- 
hearted  chief  shed  many  tears  ; for  he  had  been  completely 
w’on  by  the  benignity  of  his  manners.  The  seamen  too  had 
made  many  pleasant  connections  among  the  Indians,  and 
they  parted  with  mutual  regret.  But  the  saddest  parting 
was  with  the  comrades  who  remained  behind.  The  signal- 
gun  was  fired.  The  crew  of  the  caravel  gave  a last  ringing 
cheer  for  the  gallant  band  of  volunteers  who  were  thus  left 
on  the  wild  shores  of  an  unknown  island,  and  who  were  des- 
tined alas ! to  welcome  their  companions  no  more. ' 


• Among  the  mariners  who  were  left  behind  at  La  Na>idad,  was  the  Irishman,  William  Sice, 
who  in  the  language  of  the  docnments  was  '*  naivral  (U  Gainey  en  Jrlanda"—ti  native  of  Qalway 
ts  Ireland. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HOMEWARD  BOUND. 

A truant — The  first  bloodshed — Storms  on  the  wild  wanes 
— Religious  nows — The  cask — Land — An  upstart  Oon- 
ernor—^‘- Home,  sweet  home!" — Genius  honored — Prep- 
arations for  a second  noyage. 

It  was  on  the  4th  of  January,  1493,  that  Columbus  set 
sail.  On  the  6th  as  he  was  beating  along  the  coast,  with  a 
head  wind,  a sailor  at  the  mast-head  cried  out  that  there  was 
a sail  at  a distance,  standing  towards  them.  It  proved  to 
be  the  truant  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon  and  the  Pinta.  From 
the  natives  he  had  heard  of  the  shipwreck  of  the  Admiral; 
but  instead  of  hastening  to  the  aid  of  his  Commander,  he 
quietly  continued  to  push  his  private  traffic,  finding  it  very 
lucrative.  With  a part  of  his  profits  he  bribed  his  crew  to 
give  a false  account  of  his  proceedings.  He  had  also  made 
slaves  of  some  of  the  Indians  intending  to  sell  them;  but 
Columbus  exerted  his  authority,  and  forced  him — not  with- 
out high  words  passing  between  them — to  send  the  captives 
home  with  presents. 

Though,  as  regarded  the  act  of  desertion  the  Admiral  pru- 
dently suppressed  the  signs  of  his  just  indignation,  he  could 
feel  no  further  confidence  in  the  man  who  might  at  any  time, 
under  renewed  temptation,  repeat  a perfidy  which  he  did 
not  seem  to  regret.  That  one  disloyal  act  had  ruined  a cam- 
paign. The  only  safe  course  now  was  to  make  the  best  way 
back  to  Spain,  and  leave  further  discoveries  for  future  ex- 
peditions. The  resolve  was  a painful  one,  but  it  was  more 
important  to  secure  the  discoveries  already  made  than  to  en- 
large them. 

After  standing  for  some  distance  further  along  the  coast 
of  Hispaniola,  the  Admiral  anchored  in  a vast  bay,  three 
84 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


85i. 

leagues  in  breadth,  extending  far  into  the  land,  and  bordered 
by  the  mountains  of  Ciguay.  Here  the  Spaniards  had  a sharp 
skirmish  with  the  natives,  in  which  several  of  the  latter 
were  slain.  These  Indians  were  a hardy  and  warlike  race  of 
mountaineers,  in  aspect  fierce,  hideously  painted,  and  their 
heads  decorated  with  feathers.  They  fought  with  war-clubs, 
bows  and  arrows,  and  palm-wood  swords,  so  hard  and  heavy 
as  to  cleave  through  a helmet  to  the  very  brain.  Several  of 
the  savages  were  killed.  This  was  the  first  contest  with  the 
people  of  the  New  World,  and  the  first  time  that  native 
blood  was  shed  by  the  white  men.  From  this  skirmish  the 
place  received  the  name  of  the  Gulf  of  Arrows — now  the 
Gulf  of  Samena.  The  encounter  caused  much  grief  to  Col- 
umbus, nor  would  he  leave  the  island  until  friendly  rela- 
tions had  been  restored. 

The  Discoverer  of  a New  World,  could  not  without  bitter 
regret,  turn  his  back  after  three  short  months  upon  those^ 
sunny  shores,  which  had  expected  him  so  long,  guarded  from 
petty  intruders  by  all  the  teiTors  of  the  mighty  ocean.  Yet 
it  must  be.  He  owed  it  to  mankind  to  run  no  needless  risk. 
Others,  perhaps,  before  him  had  found  their  way  by  accident 
or  design  to  the  land  in  the  West,  but,  if  it  were  so,  none 
had  returned  to  Europe  to  tell  their  tale;  and  so  it  might  also 
be  in  his  own  case.  All  that  he  had  so  far  done  might  lie- 
for  ever  hid  behind  that  waste  of  waters,  and  his  fate  might 
be  only  one  dark  example  added  to  the  rest  to  warn  rash 
mortals  not  to  try  to  read  the  secrets  of  the  deep.  He  wish- 
ed, indeed,  at  first  to  make  the  homeward  voyage  include  a. 
little  lateral  exploring,  but  this  design  he  soon  found  him- 
self forced  to  relinquish. 

New  dangers  were  at  hand.  About  the  20th  of  January, 
abandoning  all  secondary  plans,  he  steered  for  the  Azores, 
and  the  sea,  before  so  tranquil,  was  soon  beset  with  wind  and 
storms.  On  the  12th  of  February  a fearful  storm  overtook 
them,  and  became  more  and  more  furious,  until,  on  the  14th 
it  rose  to  a hurricane,  before  which  Pinzon’s  vessel,  the- 
Pinta,  could  only  drift  helplessly,  while  the  Nina  was  able 
to  set  a close-reefed  foresail,  which  kept  her  from  being  bur-. 


86 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


ied  in  the  trough  of  the  sea.  In  the  evening  both  caravels 
were  scudding  under  bare  poles,  and,  when  darkness  fell,  and 
the  signal  light  of  the  Pinta  gleamed  further  and  further 
off,  through  the  blinding  spray,  until  at  last  it  could  be  seen 
no  more— when  his  panic-stricken  crew,  gave  themselves  up 
lo  despair,  as  the  winds  howled  louder  and  louder — then,  in- 
deed, without  a single  skilled  navigator  to  advise  or  to  aid 
him,  Columbus  must  have  felt  himself  alone  with  the  gloomy 
night  and  the  awful  tempest.  But  his  brave  heart  bore  him 
up,  and  his  wonderful  capacity  for  devising  expedients  on 
sudden  emergencies  did  not  forsake  him. 

As  the  stores  were  consumed,  the  Nina  felt  the  want  of 
the  ballast  which  Columbus  had  intended  to  take  on  board 
at  one  of  the  islands.  “Fill  the  casks  with  water,”  he  said, 
and  let  them  serve  as  ballast” — an  expedient  which  has  grown 
common  enough  now, but  which  then  was  probably  original. 

Nor,  while  he  did  all  that  human  skill  could  suggest  for 
the  safety  of  his  vessel,  did  the  dauntless  Admiral  neglect 
to  invoke  the  aid  of  that  Almighty  Power  at  whose  special 
inspiration  be  felt  he  had  undertaken  the  expedition.  With 
his  whole  crew  he  drew  lots  to  choose  one  of  their  number  to 
perform  a pilgrimage  to  the  shrine  of  Our  Lady  of  Guada- 
loupe.  Columbus  was  chosen.  Twice  more  were  the  lots 
drawn  with  a similar  object,  and  once  again  the  lot  fell  to 
the  Admiral.  Afterwards,  he  and  all  his  crew  made  a vow 
to  go  in  procession,  clothed  in  penitential  garments,  to  the 
first  church,  dedicated  to  the  Immaculate  Virgin,  which  they 
should  meet  with  on  arriving  at  land — a vow,  that  we 
shall  presently  see,  was  followed  by  quite  unexpected  cir- 
cumstances. 

When,  in  truth,  the  chances  of  weathering  the  storm  had 
become  small,  Columbus  determed  that  if  possible,  the  tidings 
of  his  discoveries  should  not  perish  with  him.  He  wrote  a 
short  account  of  his  voyage  on  parchment,  and  this  he  in- 
closed in  wax,  and  placed  in  a cask,  which  he  committed  to 
the  waves.'  Thinking,  probably,  that  his  crew  would  inter- 


• Abont  the  year  1852,  writes  Sir  Arthur  Helps,  a paragraph  went  the  rounds  of  the  English 
praes,  announcing  the  discovery  of  this  cask  on  the  African  coast,  by  the  bark  C'hieflain  of  Bos- 
ton, Mass.  Lamartine  has  accepted  this  story  as  correct,  but  it  has  never  been  authenticated. 
(Mwntnu,  p.  116,  note. 


/ 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


87 


pret  this  as  an  abandonment  of  all  hope  be  concealed  from 
them  the  real  nature  of  the  contents  of  the  cask,  so  that  the 
mariners  believed  that  their  Commander  was  performing 
some  religious  ceremony  which  might  assuage  the  fury  of 
the  angry  elements.* 

As  the  Admiral  continued  to  view  the  wild  storm,  great 
was  his  agony  of  mind.  “I  could  have  supported  this  evil 
fortune  with  less  grief,”  he  wrote,  “had  my  person  alone 
been  in  jeopardy,  since  I am  a debtor  for  my  life  to  the  Su- 
preme Creator,  and  have  at  other  times  been  within  a step  ol 
death.  But  it  was  a cause  of  infinite  sorrow  and  trouble  to 
think  that  after  having  been  illuminated  from  on  high,  with 
faith  and  certainty  to  undertake  this  enterprise,  after  having 
victoriously  achieved  it,  and  when  on  the  point  of  con- 
vincing my  opponents  and  securing  to  your  Highnesses 
great  glory  and  vast  increase  of  dominions,  it  should  please 
the  Divine  Majesty  to  defeat  all  by  my  death.”  He  adds 
that  he  deeply  felt  the  fate  of  those  for  whose  death  he  was 
responsible. 

On  the  15th  of  February  the  storm  abated  to  some  extent, 
and  at  last  they  came  in  sight  of  some  land.  It  was  one  of 
the  Azores.  The  reception  of  the  tempest-tossed  Spaniards 
in  St.  Mary’s  of  the  Azores  by  the  Christian  Portugese  was 
in  strange  contrast  to  the  kind  and  generous  contrast  of  the 
poor  Indians  of  Hispaniola,  when  the  Santa  Maria  ran 
ashore  and  became  a wreck. 

The  Governor  sent  amicable  messages  to  Columbus,  and 

> Of  this  incident  Columbus  writes  to  the  Spanish  Sovereigns  ; “ While  in  this  confused  state, 
I thought  on  the  good  fortune  which  accompanies  your  Highnesses,  and  imagined  that  although 
I should  perish,  and  the  vessel  be  lost,  it  was  possible  that  you  might  somehow  come  to  the 
knowledge  of  my  voyage,  and  the  success  with  which  it  was  attended.  For  that  reason  I WTote 
upon  parchment  with  the  brevity  which  the  situation  required,  that  I had  discovered  the  lands 
which  I promised,  in  how  many  days  I had  done  it,  and  what  course  T had  followed.  I men- 
tioned the  goodness  of  the  country,  the  character  of  the  inhabitants,  and  that  the  subjects  of 
your  Highnesses  were  left  in  possession  of  all  I had  discovered.  Having  sealed  this  writing,  1 
addressed  it  to  your  Highness  and  promised  1000  ducats  to  any  persons  who  should  deliver  it 
sealed,  so  that  if  any  foreigners  found  it,  the  promised  reward  might  prevail  on  them  not  to  give 
the  information  to  another.  I then  caused  a great  cask  to  be  brought  to  me,  and  wrapping  up 
the  parchment  in  an  oiled  cloth,  and  afterwards  in  a cake  of  was,  I put  it  into  the  cask,  and  hav- 
ing stopped  it  well,  I cast  it  into  the  sea.  All  the  men  believed  that  it  was  some  act  of  devotion. 
Thinking  that  this  might  never  chance  to  be  taken  up,  as  the  ships  approached  nearer  to  Spain, 
I made  another  pacaet  like  the  first  and  placed  it  at  the  top  of  the  poop,  so  that  if  the  ship  lunk, 
the  cast  remaining  above  water  might  be  committed  to  the  guidance  of  fortune.” 


88 


CHBISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


announcing  his  intention  of  visiting  him.  But  when — in  ful- 
fillment of  their  vow — half  the  crew  w'ent  barefooted,  on  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  Church  of  St.  Mary,  which  was  not  far 
from  the  harbor,  the  treacherous  Governor  and  his  satellites 
lay  in  ambush  on  the  road,  and,  alleging  royal  orders,  cap- 
tured the  whole  band  of  pilgrims.  The  crowns  of  Portugal 
and  Castile  were  still  at  peace,  but  it  appears  that  this  man 
“dressed  in  a little  brief  authority,’-  thought  that  the  cap- 
ture would  gratify  his  sovereign.  Of  no  avail  were  the  re- 
monstrances of  Columbus.  But  though  the  Governor  spoke 
with  scorn  and  lofty  contempt  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
still  the  cringing  sycophant  found  it  convenient  to  allow  his 
guests  to  depart.  The  pitiless  storm  broke  upon  them 
again,  and  pursued  the  gallant  little  caravel  with  ever-in- 
creasing fury,  till,  kept  afloat  by  a sort  of  miracle,  it  stag- 
gered into  harbor  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Tagus. 

Columbus  did  not  like  the  situation,  but  no  choice  was 
given.  He  sent  a message  immediately  to  the  Spanish  sover- 
eigns, and  another  to  the  King  of  Portugal.  Crowds  came 
to  look  at  him  and  his  Indians.  He  was  treated  from  the 
first  with  marked  respect.  The  King  invited  him  to  Court, 
and  though  the  Portuguese  ruler  must  have  been  tortured  by 
remorse  when  he  thought  of  all  he  had  allowed  to  slip  from 
his  grasp,  he  did  not  permit  Columbus  to  feel  any  effects  of 
his  displeasure,  but  congratulated  him  kindly  and  gave  him 
many  marks  of  his  esteem. 

King  John  even  offered  to  escort  his  guest  overland  to 
Spain,  but  the  storm  had  now  passed,  and  Columbus  pre- 
ferred to  continue  the  voyage.  He  ran  into  Palos  on  Friday, 
the  15th  of  March,  1493.  Great  was  the  excitement  in  the 
little  town.  The  inhabitants  had  been  gradually  settling 
down  into  sombre  resignation,  and  scarcely  dared  to  think 
of  the  terrible  fate  to  which  so  many  who  were  dear  to  them 
had  been  consigned ; and  now,  when  they  saw  their  own  lit- 
tle caravel,  the  Nina.,  actually  sailing  up  the  Odiel,  they 
were  almost  as  much  taken  by  surprise  as  the  poor  Indians 
of  San  Salvador  had  been.  The  bells  were  rung  in  rejoicing, 
all  Palos  came  to  the  river-side  to  welcome  back  friends  and 


CHRISTOPHER  ^.^,.UMBUS. 


89 


relatives,  as  if  they  had  risen  from  the  dead,  and  to  hear 
the  tale  of  wonder. 

By  a strange  accident,  a few  hours  later,  before  the  first 
burst  of  enthusiastic  welcome  had  subsided,  while  the  bells 
were  still  ringing  to  tell  the  country  round,  and  the  Admiral 
was  receiving  fresh  felicitations  every  moment,  the  Pinta, 
well  knovTi  in  Palos,  stood  up  the  river  and  cast  anchor  by 
the  side  of  the  Nina.  Martin  Alonzo  Pinzon  was  not  on 
board.  The  Pinta  had  been  driven  by  the  gale  into  the  Bay 
of  Biscay,  and  from  Bayonne,  Pinzon  had  hastily  dispatched 
a letter  to  the  Spanish  sovereigns,  arrogating  to  himself  all 
the  merit  of  the  discoveries,  for  he  felt  quite  sure  that  the 
poor  little  Nina  and  Columbus  had  perished  in  the  storm. 
His  own  crew  would  not  contradict  his  statement,  he  thought, 
for  their  interests  were  identified  with  his,  and  dead  men 
tell  no  tales.  The  Nina,  lying  off  Palos,  was  hidden  by 
the  bend  in  the  river,  and  it  was  only  at  the  last  moment, 
when  he  was  almost  in  the  act  of  landing,  that  poor  Martin 
Alonzo  Pinzon  saw  the  Nina  riding  at  anchor  mth  the  Ad- 
miral’s flag  at  the  masthead.  He  had  come  to  reap  a harvest 
of  glory  in  his  native  place,  while  he  waited  for  the  roj  al 
answer  summoning  him  to  Court.  Never  was  applicant  for 
royal  favor  so  crestfallen  since  Aman  made  over  his  honors 
to  Mardocheus  and  was  hanged  in  his  stead.  The  unhappy 
man  crept  over  the  side  of  his  vessel,  made  off  in  his  boat 
as  fast  as  he  could,  and  kept  out  of  sight  till  Columbus  left 
Palos.  Then  he  made  his  way  silently  home,  to  die  very 
soon  of  a broken  heart.  It  was  not  fear  of  any  punishment 
which  the  Admiral  might  inflict,  but  a self-accusing  con 
science  which  made  him  shrink  from  public  notice.  He 
had  just  enough  greatness  of  soul  to  feel  the  full  shame  o.’ 
his  own  meaness  and  defection. 

The  Pinta  and  Nina  had  between  them  brought  back 
every  man  belonging  to  Palos  who  had  joined  the  enterprise. 
Of  the  thirty-eight  who  stayed  at  La  Navidad,  not  one  was 
from  Palos.  Only  one  man,  an  Indian,  had  died  on  the 
voyage.  The  general  exultation  was  not  sullied,  as  the  joy 
of  victory  invariably  is,  by  private  grief. 


90 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB US. 


Not  all  the  congratulations  that  pressed  in  upon  him,  cr 
all  the  anticipations  of  higher  glory  in  a wider  sphere,  could 
make  the  faithful  servant  of  Holy  Mary  forget  the  vows 
pronounced  in  the  hour  of  his  deep  distress.  One  of  these  was 
to  go  with  all  his  men  of  the  Nina  in  procession,  in  peniten- 
tial garb,  to  the  nearest  shrine  of  our  Lady,  after  landing. 
He  had  made  the  attempt  to  keep  the  vow  when  he  landed 
in  the  Azores,  but  had  been  prevented  as  we  saw  by  the  at- 
titude of  the  Portuguese  Governor.  The  Admiral  then  re- 
served its  fulfillment  for  the  final  landing,  and  so  it  hap- 
pened that  the  procession  marched  to  the  Convent  of  La 
Rabida,  and  it  fell  to  good  Father  John  Perez  to  say  the 
Mass  of  Thanksgiving. 

The  men  were  then  permitted  to  rejoin  their  families,  and 
each  one  must  have  been  at  once  a hero  on  his  own  account, 
the  center  of  a circle  of  admiring  friends  who  hung  with  rapt 
attention  on  his  words  as  he  delivered  his  oracular  account 
of  the  cruise.  Columbus  naturally  fell  back  upon  La  Ra- 
bida. His  ‘‘family”  lived  there,  for  he  was  a son  of  St. 
Francis.  The  pious  day-dreams  of  Father  Perez  had  found 
indeed  their  fulfillment,  and  there  really  were  in  the  far 
west  nations  to  be  evangelized.  The  Cross  had  already  been 
planted  there,  but  that  was  only  the  beginning.  It  was  not 
enough  to  find  a new  world.  Grave  responsibilities  de^ 
volved  upon  the  finder. 

Columbus  could  now  speak  and  be  listened  to.  Kings  and 
Popes  would  value  his  advice,  perhaps  shape  their  conduct 
upon  it.  The  destinies  of  millions  of  immortal  souls  were 
delivered  to  his  keeping.  In  that  convent  once  already  a 
more  important  junto  had  been  held  than  that  of  Salamanca, 
and  now  the  monk  and  the  Admiral  laid  their  heads  to- 
gether again  to  devise  great  things.  Columbus  in  his  cell  sup- 
plemented by  a full  narrative  the  brief  despatch  sent  from 
the  Tagus,  and  counselled  Isabella  to  come  to  terms  with  the 
Holy  See,  suggesting  a line  of  demarcation  between  the 
East,  which  belonged  to  Portugal,  and  the  West,  which 
ought  to  belong  to  Spain. 

It  is  easy  to  sneer  at  the  “ sage  device”  of  the  Pope.  “ It 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


91 


seems  never  to  have  occurred  to  the  Pontiff,”  writes  Iiwing, 
“ that  by  pushing  their  opposite  careers  of  discovery  they 
might  some  day  or  other  come  again  in  collision  and  renew 
the  question  of  territorial  right  at  the  Antipodes.”  If  it  had 
occurred  to  the  Pope,  he  might  have  also  had  some  light 
from  Heaven  to  know  that  before  the  collision  of  Spaniards 
rounding  the  world  to  the  West  and  Portuguese  to  the  East 
took  place  at  the  Antipodes,  England  might  have  something 
to  say  to  lines  of  demarcation.  It  was  the  truest  wisdom  to 
deal  with  the  difficulty  as  it  presented  itself,  and  seldom  has 
a vast  international  problem  been  so  trenchantly  solved. 

The  penitential  procession,  however,  was  only  one  of  many 
vows  which  had  been  made  in  that  long  series  of  terrible 
storms.  Out  of  four  other  vows  proposed  to  the  acceptance  of 
all  on  board  the  Kina,  three  had  by  lot  fallen  to  Columbus 
himself.  They  involved  a journey  to  Santa  Maria  de  Guad- 
alupe, where  he  promised  the  monks  to  call  one  of  his  isl- 
ands after  their  convent,  another  to  Santa  Clara  at  Moguer, 
where  he  spent  the  night  before  the  Blessed  Sacjament,  and 
a third  to  Santa  Maria  de  la  Ceuta  in  Huelva.  Then  he  re- 
ceived Holy  Communion,  after  eight  months^  privation.  He 
remained  a few  days  with  Father  Perez,  and  then  went  to 
Seville  to  wait  for  the  answer  of  the  King  and  Queen. 

It  came,  addressed  “ To  Don  Christopher  Columbus,  our 
Admiral  of  the  Ocean  Sea,  Viceroy  and  Governor  of  the  Isl- 
ands discovered  in  the  Indies.’’'’  He  was  invited  to  pro- 
ceed as  soon  as  possible  to  Barcelona.  The  journey  was  a 
triumphal  procession  all  the  way.  He  had  summoned  his 
sailors  from  Palos  to  share  the  honors,  and  as  by  that  time 
all  the  country  had  heard  of  the  grand  discovery,  crowds 
flocked  along  the  route  to  tender  their  respect  to  the  great 
man  as  he  passed.  The  Indians  whom  he  carried  with  him 
were  objects  of  special  interest,  and  a monster  iguana,  harm- 
less enough  even  when  alive,  but  looking  very  diabolical 
even  when  stuffed,  was  an  object  of  mingled  wonder  and 
fear. 

The  enthusiasm  of  the  people  was  a suggestion  to  the 
Court,  and  a reception  in  the  grandest  style  of  the  Spanish 


92 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


ceremonial  was  carefully  prepared.  As  lie  approached  tl»e 
town  he  was  met  by  a noble  escort  of  young  cavaliers  and  a 
vast  surging  throng  of  citizens.  He  was  himself  on  horse- 
back, and  seemed  by  his  stately  bearing  and  commanding 
presence  fit  to  be  the  central  figure  of  this  almost  Roman 
triumph. 

“A  thousand  trumpets  ring  within  old  Barcelona’s  walls, 

A thousand  gallant  nobles  throng  in  Barcelona’s  halls — 

All  meet  to  gaze  on  him  who  wrought  a pathway  for  mankind. 

Through  seas  as  broad  to  worlds  as  rich  as  his  triumphant  mind; 

And  King  and  Queen  will  grace  forsooth  the  mariners’  array — 

The  lonely  seaman  scorned  and  scoffed  in  Palos  town  one  day! 

He  comes — he  comes!  the  gates  swing  wide  and  through  the  streets  advance 
His  cavalcade  in  proud  parade,  with  plume  and  pennoned  lance. 

And  natives  of  those  new-found  worlds,  and  treasures  all  untold, 

And  in  the  midst  The  Admiral,  his  charger  trapped  with  gold; 

And  all  are  wild  with  joy,  and  blithe  the  gladsome  clarions  swell 
And  dames  and  princes  meet  to  greet,  and  loud  the  myriads  yell. 

They  cheer,  that  mob,  they  wildly  cheer — Columbus  checks  his  rein. 

And  bends  him  to  the  beauteous  dames  and  cavaliers  of  Spain.”  * 

At  the  royal  palace  the  first  hall  of  audience  had  been 
thrown  open.  A seat  splendidly  adorned  was  placed  close  in 
front  of  the  two  royal  thrones,  which  surpassed  their  usual 
magnificence.  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  were  already  seated, 
waiting  for  Columbus.  When  the  conqueror  of  the  ocean 
approached,  they  rose  to  greet  him.  In  vain  he  tried  to 
kneel  and  kiss  their  hands.  Not  till  he  was  seated  would 
they  resume  their  seats.  Then,  they  demanded  his  narra- 
tive, and  with  charming  modesty  and  self-possession  he  told 
them  of  their  new  dominions.  We  do  not  possess  the  words 
of  his  discourse,  but  when  he  finished,  the  King  and  Queen, 
with  all  the  vast  multitude  present,  fell  upon  their  knees 
and  the  choir  of  the  royal  chapel  chanted  the  Te  Deum  in 
thanksgiving  to  God  for  the  mighty  deeds  of  Christopher 
Columbus! 

During  the  whole  of  this  sojourn  at  Barcelona,  the  Sover- 
eigns took  every  occasion  to  bestow  personal  marks  of 
high  consideration  on  the  Admiral.  He  was  admitted  at  all 


‘ O.  H.  Supple. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


9:} 


times  to  the  royal  presence,  and  the  Queen  delighted  to  con- 
verse with  him  on  the  subject  of  his  enterprises.  The  King, 
too,  appeared  occasionally  on  horseback  with  the  Prince 
John  on  one  side,  and  Columbus  on  the  other.  To  perpetu- 
ate in  his  family  the  glory  of  his  achievement,  a coat  of  arms 
was  assigned  with  his  proper  bearings  which  were  a group  of 
islands  surrounded  by  waves.  To  these  arms  were  afterwards 
annexed  the  motto; 

A Castilia  y a Leon 

Neuvo  mundo  dio  Colon. ' 

None  now  spoke  more  loudly  the  praises  of  the  man  whom 
the  Court  and  the  nation  agreed  to  honor,  than  those  who 
had  mocked  him  in  his  distress,  when  a kind  word  would 
have  reached  his  heart  and  been  forever  remembered.  Well 
did  Columbus  know  the  value  of  their  protestations  of  good- 
will. The  Dominican  Father  Diego  de  Deza,  who  had  plead- 
ed his  cause  at  Salamanca,  shared  with  Father  John  Perez,  ' 
his  undying  gratitude;  but  he  was  well  assured  that  the  base 
spirits,  who,  after  trying  to  crush  him  in  his  poverty,  now 
came  to  flatter  him  in  his  prosperity,  would  desert  him  again 
if  he  ever  needed  their  assistance.  His  enemies  hitherto  had 
done  nothing  worse  than  waste  his  time  and  health  and 
strength,  and  delay  his  work.  It  was  now  to  be  their  part 
to  ruin  his  benevolent  schemes,  to  bring  his  gray  hairs  in 
sorrow  to  the  grave,  and  heap  reproaches  on  his  illustrious 
memory.* 

The  active  vigilance  and  continual  anxiety  of  eight  event- 
ful months  must  have  made  repose  almost  a necessity.  There 


* To  Castile  and  Leo»." 

ColuD»bc«  gave  a New  World. 

The  news  of  the  discovery — the  greatest  and  the  most  important  event  for  science  and  for  hp- 
manity  that  had  ever  occurred— spread  along  the  shores  of  Europe  reached  the  center  parts,  and 
soon  extended  to  the  East.  The  celebrated  Sebastian  Cabot,  who  was  then  at  the  English 
Court,  acknowledges  that  the  discovery  was  there  considered  a divine  rather  than  a human  work, 
and  the  great  naiigator  considered  it  so  himself. — Ckntnt  de  Lorguee. 

’ A minor  mistake  may  he  corrected  here.  The  anecdote  of  the  egg  made  to  stand  on  end, 
which  is  as  well  known  as  the  name  of  Columbus,  is  found  to  he  a pure  fabrication  of  Italian  or- 
Father  Knight  S.  J. 

None  of  the  Spanish  historians  have  mentioned  such  a circumstance.  For  the  dignity  of  his- 
tory, we  beseech  our  readers  to  recite  no  longer  this  miserable  anecdote  and  not  to  impute  to  the 
revealer  of  the  globe  so  unworthy  a trick.— Count  de  Lorgues. 


94 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


was  indeed  no  time  to  lose,  for  wasted  years  had  made  all 
that  might  yet  remain  of  life  very  precious.  But  it  seems 
that  Columbus  did  actually  contemplate  a flying  visit  to 
Rome,  to  tell  with  his  own  lips  the  story  of  his  voyage  to 
the  Vicar  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  whom,  in  the  truthful  judg- 
ment of  those  days,  the  discovery  of  new  races  of  men  was 
a matter  of  more  vital  interest  and  grave  concern  than  even 
to  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  or  to  John  II.  A journey  from 
Rome  to  Genoa,  to  see  his  aged  father,  Dominic,  who  w’as 
yet  alive,  would  have  been  in  the  natural  course  of  things. 
If  any  such  design  had  been  formed,  it  had  to  be  set  aside, 
for  the  threatening  attitude  of  Portugal  made  even  a short 
delay  unwise.  King  John  II.,  although  he  had  not  mo- 
lested Columbus  when  he  had  him  in  his  power,  was  fully 
determined  to  secure  for  himself  some  portion  of  the  West- 
ern World;  and  it  seemed  likely,  by  the  reports  which 
reached  the  Court  of  Spain,  that  he  would  solve  the  diplo- 
matic difficulty  by  fitting  out  an  expedition  without  further 
ceremony.  Columbus  was  therefore  ordered  to  push  the 
preparations  for  a second  voyage.  Instead  of  visiting  his 
father,  he  sent  an  affectionate  message,  begging  at  the  same 
time  that  his  brother  James  might  be  allowed  to  join  him  in 
Spain.  The  young  man  accordingly  passed  straight  from 
the  wool-comber’s  shop  to  the  Spanish  Court,  and  became 
Don  James  Columbus.  His  first  public  act  was  to  stand 
godfather  to  one  of  the  Indians,  who  received  his  name.  In 
this  pious  work  King  Ferdinand,  Prince  John,  and  the  first 
nobleman  of  Spain  were  his  associates. 


CHAPTER  V. 


THE  TRIALS,  ADVENTURES,  AND  HEROISM  OF  THE  SECOND 

VOYAGE. 

New  officials  and  the  final  preparations — A singular  mis- 
take— A powerful  enemy  of  Columbus — On  the  ocean 
again — Adventure  in  Guadalupe — At  Hispaniola  once 
more — A sad  tale  of  La  Navidad — The  progress  of  ' af- 
fairs in  Hispaniola — The  City  of  Isabella — The  Royal 
Plain — Revolution  of  lazy  insolence — Difficulties  with 
Father  Boil — Exploration  and  Adventures — Sickness  of 
Columbus — Character  of  Don  Bartholomew — Villiany 
of  Mar  gar  ite — Ojeda  and  Caonabo — Battle  of ‘2,^^  against 
100,000 — Calumny — Diaz  and  his  dusky  bride — The 
Admiral  sails  for  Spain. 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella  issued  their  instructions  for  the 
second  voyage,  and  placed  the  fitting  out  of  the  fleet  and  the 
management  of  Indian  affairs  under  the  superintendence  of 
John  Roderiguez  de  Fonseca,  Archdeacon  of  Seville,  who 
had  the  administration  for  thirty  years.  The  choice  was 
very  unfortunate.  Francis  Pinelo  was  made  treasurer,  and 
John  de  Soria  comptroller.  The  Admiral  was  directed  to 
establish  a similar  office  in  Hispaniola.  Father  Bernard  Boil 
from  the  Benedictine  Monastery  of  our  Lady  of  Montserrat, 
received  the  mission  to  evangelize  the  new  nations,  with  the 
assistance  of  twelve  priests  of  his  own  choice. 

The  appointment  of  this  worldly-minded  monk  had  not 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  upon  it,  and,  as  it  now  seems,  no 
authorization  from  Rome.  It  was  apparently  a culpable 
error  on  the  part  of  Ferdinand,  the  true  history  of  which 
never  came  to  light  till  1851,  when  the  labors  of  Count  de 
Lorgues  cleared  up  the  matter.  The  sterility  of  these  firet 

95 


96 


GHBISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


missionaries  to  the  New  World  is  no  longer  surprising. 
Father  Bernard  Boil,  the  Benedictine,  who  went  out  with 
Columbus  on  his  second  voyage,  was  well  known  at  the 
Court  of  Aragon,  and  highly  esteemed  for  skillful  manage- 
ment of  business.  Ferdinand  sent  his  name  to  Borne,  pray- 
ing that  the  spiritual  interests  of  the  expedition  might 
be  confided  to  his  care.  But  the  Holy  Father  knew 
that  Columbus  was  deeply  attached  to  the  Franciscans; 
so  setting  aside  the  King’s  nominee,  he  appointed,  it 
seems,  a Franciscan  Father  of  the  same  name.  When  the 
Bull  arrived,  bearing  the  address,  Dilecto  filio.,  Bernardo 
Boyl.,  fratri  ordinis  minorum^  Vicario  dicti  ordinis  in 
Hispaniarum  regnis^  Ferdinand  seems  to  have  thought 
that  the  Holy  Father  had  made  a mistake,  and  that  al- 
though Father  Bernard  Boyl  was  styled  a Friar  Minor,  he 
must  surely  be  that  Bernard  Boil  for  whom  solemn  appli- 
cation had  been  made. 

The  King  did  not  feel  quite  certain  about  his  interpreta- 
tion, but  it  would  never  do  to  delay  the  departure  of  the 
fleet  till  a rectification  could  be  procured  from  Borne.  He 
therefore  persuaded  himself  that  he  could  with  safe  con- 
science take  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  for  after  all  he  was  do- 
ing very  little  violence  to  the  document  by  changing  the 
title  of  the  reverend  Father,  and  in  those  days  it  could  not 
have  even  entered  his  mind  to  consider  the  different  spelling 
of  the  name.  Moreover,  it  surely  did  not  matter  much  in 
any  case,  he  might  easily  think,  whether  one  saintly  Order 
or  another  had  to  provide  a Vicar- Apostolic.  Having  thus 
forced  his  conscience  to  agree  with  his  inclination,  he  sup- 
pressed the  Bull,  for  it  Avas  not  impossible  that  theologians 
might  attach  more  value  to  what  the  Pope  had  actually  said, 
than  to  what  the  King  thought  the  Pope  had  intended  to  say. 
Father  Boil,  the  Benedictine,  received  due  notice  of  the  ar- 
rival of  the  Bull  confirming  the  King’s  nomination,  but  the 
document  itself  was  retained  by  the  King,  for  fear,  it  was 
stated  of  exposing  it  to  any  unnecessary  risk.  Later  it 
vanished  altogether,  and  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  collection 
of  diplomatic  papers  published  by  the  Spanish  Government. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


97 


A tell-tale  copy,  however,  has  been  faithfully  preserved  in 
the  archives  of  the  Vatican.* 

The  fleet  for  this  expedition  was  made  up  of  seventeen 
vessels — three  large  carracks  and  fourteen  caravels.  Great 
activity  was  displayed  in  furnishing,  provisioning,  and  arm- 
ing the  ships,  and  in  selecting  suitable  crews  from  the  crowd 
of  volunteers  of  all  conditions  who  pressed  forward  to  de 
mand  admission.  It  is  easy  to  understand  that  men  of  very 
various  character  would  eagerly  desire  to  visit  distant  shores, 
so  lately  fonning  part  of  the  land  of  dreams,  and  suddenly 
transferred  to  waking  life.  Many  motives  were  at  work. 
The  ambitious,  the  covetous,  the  curious,  the  restless  became 
conscious  of  a vocation,  for  a short  way  had  been  found  to 
fame  and  fortune,  scientific  research,  and  thrilling  adven- 
ture. Few  men  can  open  a new  field  to  human  thought,  but 
many  can  improve  a first  success.  In  the  first  voyage  Co- 
lumbus stood  alone  in  his  confidence.  In  the  second  voyage 
every  man  in  the  seventeen  ships  had  the  soul  of  a dis- 
coverer. 

Columbus  stayed  in  Barcelona  till  the  28th  of  May,  re- 
ceiving continual  proofs  of  the  complete  confidence  which 
Isabella  placed  in  his  judgment ; and  the  solemn  instructions 
delivered  to  him  by  the  sovereigns  to  guide  him  in  his  gov- 
ernment of  the  colonies  were  reall}^  nothing  but  his  own 
suggestions.,  adapted  Avithout  an  amendment  or  an  addition, 
and  ratified  by  royal  authority.  He  Avas  named  Captain- 
General  of  the  fleet  of  the  Indies,  and  received  authority 
for  the  direct  appointment  of  all  the  officers  of  the  neAv  Gov- 
ernment. The  royal  seal  AA-as  committed  to  him  to  be  used 
at  his  discretion,  and  the  articles  agreed  upon  at  Santa  Fe 
were  solemnly  confirmed. 

The  Queen  showed  great  solicitude  for  all  that  concerned 
the  personal  comfort  of  the  Admiral  and  requked  that  the 
greatest  deference  should  be  paid  to  all  his  wishes.  She 
provided  generously  for  his  expenses ; wherever  he  went, 
he  AA^as  to  have  free  lodgings  for  himself  and  five  ser- 
vants, and  free  transport  for  his  baggage.  Fonseca  and 


' Through  the  reeearchee  of  Count  de  Lorgues  this  document  was  brought  to  light  in  1851. 


98 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


Soria  thouglit  the  Queen  was  going  a little  too  far,  and  they 
quietly  disobeyed  her  injunctions,  treating  some  of  the  de- 
mands of  Columbus  with  contempt.  Father  Boil,  who  was 
at  this  time  a sincere  admirer  of  the  great  man,  wrote  to  the 
sovereigns  to  complain,  and  drew  down  a severe  reprimand 
upon  Juan  de  Soria,  with  fresh  instructions  for  Fonseca. 
They  never  forgave  Columbus,  and  Fonseca  had  ample  op- 
portunity to  make  him  feel  the  full  weight  of  his  ven- 
geance. * 

During  the  Admiral’s  stay  in  Barcelona  the  prize  for  the 
first  sight  of  land  was  adjudged  to  him,  because  he  had 
descried  the  moving  light  upon  the  shore. 

Isabella  was  careful  to  provide  Father  Boil  and  his  brethren 
Avith  all  things  needful  for  the  efficient  discharge  of  their  sa- 
cred duties  ; and  she  repeatedly  commended  her  dear  Indians 
to  the  protection  of  Columbus,  ordering  him  to  punish  with 
severity  any  Spaniards  Avho  should  injure  them. 

The  equipment  of  the  fleet,  under  the  active  encourage- 
ment of  the  Queen,  was  conceived  in  a large  spirit,  and  car- 
ried out  vigorously.  The  event  proved  that  Soria  was  not 
above  the  temptation  of  profiting  by  fraudulent  contracts. 
The  outfit  included  domestic  animals,  agricultural  imple- 
ments, grain,  lime,  bricks,  iron,  and  a large  supply  of  glass 
ornaments.  Horses,  destined  to  play  an  important  part  in 
the  Spanish  conquest  of  America,  were  carefully  selected, 
munitions  of  Avar  were,  of  course,  not  forgotten.  The  arque- 
buse  was  not  yet  a very  efficient  AA*eapon,  but  though  cross- 
bows and  lances  were  considered  more  really  useful,  fire- 
arms and  artillery,  so  Avell  calculated  to  strike  terror  into 
savages,  could  not  be  ommitted. 

The  number  of  men  Avas  at  first  fixed  at  one  thousand,  but 
an  extension  to  the  number  of  twelve  hundred  aa^us  permit- 
ted, and  at  the  last  moment  about  three  hundred  more  con- 
trived to  stow  themselves  aAA^ay  out  of  sight,  so  that  about 


* Fonseca  was,  it  seems,  a person  of  much  ability,  but  of  despicable  character — vindicative 
and  malignant  in  an  extreme  degree.  He  contributed,  perhaps,  more  than  any  other  man  to  break 
the  heart  and  embitter  the  declining  years  of  the  illustrious  discoverer  of  America.  True  history 
has  not  failed  to  brand  his  name  with  the  stigma  of  infamy. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


99 


fifteen  hundred  ev^entually  sailed.  Care  had  been  taken  to 
form  an  active  corps  of  engineers  and  artisans. 

There  Is  reason  to  think  that  another  priesi,  not  included 
in  Father  Boil’s  company  of  twelve,  was  sent  out  by  the 
Queen,  as  her  astronomer  royal ; and  this  was  no  less  a man 
than  Father  John  Perez,  Guardian  of  La  Rabida.  Count 
de  Lorgues  makes  it  appear  very  iDiobable  that  here  there 
has  been  some  confusion  of  names,  and  that  Father  Perez 
not  only  accompanied  Columbus  on  his  second  voyage,  but 
also  was,  as  he  deserved  to  be,  the  first  priest  who  set  foot 
in  the  New  World.' 

Twenty  days  before  the  departure  of  the  expedition,  Isa- 
bella sent  back  to  Columbus  that  much  regretted  journal 
which  Las  Casas  was  content  to  epitomize.  She  said  that 
she  had  read  it  through  and  through,  and  with  ever-increas- 
ing admiration ; she  asked  for  further  instruction  upon  sev- 
eral points ; she  begged  him  to  send  her  a map  with  the 
degrees  marked,  promising  to  keep  it  secret,  if  he  so  desired. 
Finally,  she  advised  him  to  take  with  him  a skillful  astron- 
omer, and,  with  that  thoughtful  kindness  which  was  a part 
of  herself,  she  as  usual  tried  to  interpret  his  wishes,  and 
convert  them  into  royal  decrees. 

Columbus  named  his  ship  once  more  after  our  Blessed 
Lady.  The  Maria-Galanta^  had  on  board  the  Court  phy- 
sician, Dr.  Chanca,  a learned  man,  whose  letters  are  very 
valuable,  and  Anthony  Casaus,  the  father  of  Las  Casas,  who 
has  been  by  some  writers  confounded  with  his  illustrious 
son.  The  ‘'Friend  of  the  Indians’  was  then  a student  at 
Seville.  Among  the  passengers  were  many  youug  gentle- 
men, who  thought  it  a fine  thing  to  join  in  an  adventurous 
search  for  gold,  but  never  meant  to  soil  their  dainty  hands 
by  manly  toil.  Fiimin  Zedo,  the  wmrker  in  mehd,  had 
gained  by  much  boasting  a high  reputation  for  scientific  skill, 
but  in  the  event  it  appeared  that  he  was  as  ignorant  as  he  was 
conceited.  The  brother  of  the  Admiral,  Don  James  Co- 


' George  Cardo'-o,  in  the  Portuguese  Hagiography,  says  that  Father  Perez  was  the  Jirst  priest 
who  liinrted  in  the  New  World,  and  the  first  who  said  Mass  there. — Father  Knight,  S.  J. 

’ J'ltc  O'/aciousMary. 


100 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


lumbus  and  his  godson  were  also  on  board  the  Maricu 
Galanta. 

On  the  25th  of  September,  1493,  the  fleet  set  sail,  steering 
for  the  Canaries.  After  taking  in  large  supplies  of  live 
stock,  already  partially  acclimatized,  Columbus  gave  to  all 
the  captains  of  the  caravels  sealed  orders,  which  were  only 
to  be  opened  in  case  of  necessity,  and  then  fixed  his  course 
further  south  than  on  the  previous  voyage.  He  wished  to 
light  upon  the  land  of  the  redoubted  Carib  tribes,  whom 
the  Hispaniola  Indians  had  with  one  accord  placed  to  the 
south-east  of  their  own  island. 

On  the  13th  of  October,  the  Spanish  fleet  lost  sight  of  the 
island  of  Ferro.  The  voyage  was  most  prosperous,  with  a 
fair  breeze  almost  all  the  way.  On  the  2d  of  November, 
the  signs  of  land  made  it  prudent  to  advance  cautiously 
after  nightfall,  and  witn  the  first  light  on  the  following  day, 
a mountainous  island  Avas  seen.  The  Admiral  gave  it 
the  name  of  Dominica,  from  having  discovered  it  on  Sun- 
day. On  their  way,  another  island  appeared  to  the  right, 
and  received  the  name  of  Maria-Galanta.' 

The  first  landing  was  effected,  and  the  first  cross 
planted  on  this  island. 

Other  islands  lay  near,  and  they  visited  the  next  day  the 
largest  of  the  group,  to  which  Columbus  gave  the  name  of 
Santa  Mariade  Guadaloupe,'  according  to  his  promise,  be- 
fore mentioned.  Here  they  found  some  women  and  chil- 
dren, and  many  dreadful  relics  of  cannibalism.  At  that 
very  time  the  men  of  the  island  were  engaged  in  procuring 
captives  for  their  horrible  banquets.  ’ There  is,  unfortu- 


* It  is  worth  noticing,  says  Father  Knight,  S.  J.,  that  Columbus  observed  the  same  order  in 
conferring  names  on  both  voyages.  His  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  was  ardent,  but  well 
regulated.  In  both  instances,  the  first  tribute  of  discovery  was  offered  to  Jesus  Christ — tha 
second  to  his  Blessed  Mother. 

* To  this  island,  that  was  called  by  the  Indians  Turugueira,  the  Admiral  gave  the  name  of 
Guadaloupe,  having  promised  the  monks  of  our  Lady  of  Guadaloupe  to  call  some  newly-discov- 
ered place  after  their  Convent. — Irving. 

It  was  here  that  the  Spaniards  first  met  with  that  queen  of  fruits— the  pine-apple. 

* What  struck  the  Spaniards  with  horror  was  the  sight  of  human  bones,  vestiges  as  they  sup- 
posed  ot  unnatural  repasts ; and  skulls  apparently  used  as  vases  and  other  household  utensils^ 
These  dismal  objects  conWnced  them  that  they  were  now  in  the  abodes  of  the  Cannibals,  or 
Caribs,  whose  predatory  expeditions  and  ruthless  character  rendered  them  the  terror  of  these 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


101 


nately,  little  reason  to  doubt  that  the  account  given  by  the 
first  European  visitors  is  true  in  its  main  features.  Even  the 
deliberate  infamy  of  reserving  children  for  future  slaughter, 
and  preparing  them  carefully  till  they  reached  a certain  age 
seems  to  have  been  an  established  practice  among  those 
loathsome  cannibals  who,  having  depopulated  the  nearest  isl- 
ands, extended  their  ravages  to  more  distant  shores.  The- 
ories of  autonomy  are  much  disturbed  by  facts  like  these. 
Just  or  unjust,  it  would  at  least  have  been  merciful,  not  only 
to  their  victims,  but  likewise  to  themselves,  to  subjugate  or 
even  to  enslave  such  a tribe. 

Guadaloup«  was  the  very  centre  of  the  Carib  settlement; 
so  that  Columbus  had  made  his  calculations  well.  Without 
a change  of  course,  or  a moment’ s hesitation,  he  had  steered 
straight  across  the  Atlantic  to  the  object  of  his  search.  He 
sent  exploring  parties  into  the  island.  One  of  his  captains, 
James  Marquez,  landing  without  the  Admiral’s  permission, 
set  off  vdth  eight  of  his  men  on  a tour  of  inspection  and  lost 
his  way  in  the  tangled  forest.  Columbus  sent  the  very  brave^ 
and  justly  renowned  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  to  try  to  find  the  mis- 
sing men;  but  all  his  efforts  w^ere  unavailing.  The  thought 
of  leaving  them  in  Guadaloupe  to  the  mercy  of  the  cannibals 
could  scarcely  be  endured,  but  the  length  of  time  which  had 
elapsed  since  their  disappearance,  and  the  failure  of  Ojeda’s 
skillful  and  daring  pursuit,  convinced  Columbus  that  he 
must  submit  to  the  sad  necessity. 

Just  as  the  ships,  however,  were  weighing  anchor,  the  poor 
wanderers,  starved  and  exhausted,  struggled  to  the  shore. 
Some  Indian  women,  who  had  been  captured  by  the  Caribs, 
also  escaped  to  the  Spanish  ships.  The  Carib  women  were 
as  ferocious,  and  almost  as  expert  in  war  as  the  men,  and 
they  were  quite  able  to  defend  the  island  against  any  ordi- 
nary intruders.  As  the  wonderful  stories  of  Cathay  had  a 
very  good  foundation  in  the  realities  of  the  Celestial  Empire, 
so  the  very  ancient  belief  in  a nation  of  amazons  had  a 

eeas.  . .Awfni  sights  met  them  in  several  villages.  Human  limh^were  suspended  to  the  beams  of 
the  houses,  as  if  curing  for  provisions.  The  head  of  a young  man  recently  killed,  was  yet  bleed- 
ing ; some  parts  of  his  body  were  roasting  before  the  fire,  others  boiling  with  the  flesh  of  geea» 
•od  parrots.— 


102 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


strange  realization  in  the  women-warriors  of  these  cannibal 
islands,  who  for  some  considerable  portion  of  each  year  were 
left  in  sole  possession. 

Leaving  Guadaloupe,  Columbus  sailed  to  the  north-west, 
for  Hispaniola,  and  as  he  passed  between  the  thickly  clus- 
tered islands,  he  found  pious  names  for  them,  one  by  one, 
till  he  came  to  a group  so  multitudinous  that,  without  the 
aid  of  St.  Ursula  and  her  eleven  thousand  virgin  martyrs, 
even  his  inventive  genius  might  have  been  at  fault.  At 
Santa  Cruz., ' a boatful  of  Carib  men  and  women  gave  signal 
proof  of  the  fierce  courage  of  that  strange  people.  When 
their  boat  was  upset  by  the  Spaniards,  the  savages  fought  in 
the  water;  and  if,  in  their  flight,  they  found  a moment’s 
rest  for  their  feet  upon  some  hidden  ledge,  they  rallied,  and 
poured  in  a shower  of  arrows  upon  their  pursuers. 

Continuing  his  course  the  Admiral  came  on  the  22d  of 
November  to  Hispaniola.  “By  the  grace  of  God,”  wrote 
the  learned  Doctor  Chanca,  “and  the  science  of  the  Ad- 
miral, we  steered  as  straight  as  if  we  had  been  following  a 
well  known  and  beaten  track.”  In  his  anxiety  to  see  once 
more  the  little  colony  at  La  Navidad,  Columbus  had  allowed 
himself  only  two  days  on  the  island  of  Porto  Rico,  which  well 
deserved  a longer  stay;  and  now  that  the  much  expected 
meeting  was  close  at  hand,  a thrill  of  excitement  ran  through 
the  fleet.  At  the  gulf  of  Samana,  where  the  unfortunate 
skirmish  with  the  natives,  which  formed  the  closing  scene  of 
the  first  voyage,  had  taken  place,  Columbus  put  on  shore 
one  of  the  two  young  Indians,  who  had  returned  from  Spain. 
He  was  never  heard  of  again.  The  other,  James  Columbus,’ 
who  was  a native  of  San  Salvador,  remained  faithful  to 
the  end. 

Near  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  del  Oro  an  exploring  party 
found  two  bodies  with  the  arms  fastened  in  the  form  of  a 
cross,  but  their  nationality  was  no  longer  distinguishable; 
the  next  day,  not  far  from  the  same  place,  they  saw  two 


■ Holy  Cross. 

* Or  Wego  Colon.  As  will  be  remembered,  be  was  named  after  the  Admiral's  brother, who  was 
his  godfather. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


108 


more  dead  bodies,  certainly  European.  Gloomy  suspicions 
were  aroused.  The  ships  pressed  forward  in  all  haste,"  but 
it  was  quite  dark  when  they  arrived  off  La  Navidad.  To 
keep  clear  of  the  dangerous  shoals,  the  ships  were  anchored 
at  some  distance  from  the  shore.  No  light  was  seen.  Co- 
lumbus fired  off  two  of  the  heaviest  guns,  but,  though  the  re- 
port echoed  far  along  the  shore,  no  answer  was  returned. 

Towards  midnight  a canoe  came  alongside  with  two  Indi- 
ans inquiring  for  the  Admiral.  They  were  directed  to  his 
ship,  but  would  not  go  on  board  till  they  had  identified  him 
by  the  light  of  a lamp.  They  said  that  the  Spanish  settlers 
were  well,  and  by  way  of  confirmation  immediately  added 
that  some  had  died  from  disease,  and  some  had  been  killed 
in  their  frequent  quarrels  among  themselves,  and  others  had 
gone  to  live  in  a distant  part  of  the  island.  They  also  said 
that  Caonabo  and  another  cacique  had  made  war  on  the 
friend  of  Columbus,  Guacanagari,  and  had  burnt  his  village 
and  wounded  himself.  A little  later,  when  the  wine  which 
they  had  drunk  made  them  less  prudent,  they  infonned  the 
young  Indian,  James  Columbus,  that  all  the  little  colony  had 
been  destroyed;  but  this  was  too  dreadful  to  be  believed, 
and  the  difference  of  dialects  was  supposed  to  have  caused 
some  misapprehension  of  meaning. 

The  next  day  showed  that  the  story,  was  only  too  true. 
Columbus  waited  for  a visit  from  Guacanagari,  which  the 
Indians  had  promised  in  his  name,  but  he  did  not  come.  A 
melancholy  silence  reigned  over  the  place,  so  full  of  life  a 
few  months  before.  The  fortress  was  a blackened  ruin,  lit- 
tered with  remnants  of  furniture  and  broken  vessels.  The 
Indian  village  close  by  had  also  been  burnt,  from  which  it 
seemed  that  at  least  the  Indians  of  the  neighborhood  had 
not  been  treacherous. 

Guacanagari  was  discovered  in  a village  down  the  coast, 
confined  to  his  hammock  by  a wound  in  his  leg,  and  he  sent 
to  beg  that  Columbus  might  pay  him  a visit.  The  visit  was 
made  with  all  possible  parade  of  power  and  magnificence. 
The  wounded  cacique  gave  a detailed  account  of  Caonabo’ s 
attack,  which  exactly  tallied  with  the  information  gathered 


104 


CHEISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


from  other  sources ; but,  when  Columbus  made  him  submit 
his  wound  to  medical  inspection,  no  trace  of  any  injury 
appeared. 

Suspicion  was  at  once  aroused.  Father  Boil  demanded 
that  the  perfidious  chief  should  be  punished  on  the  spot.  Co- 
lumbus was  unwilling  to  believe  his  guilt,  but  out  of  respect 
to  the  sacred  character  of  his  counsellor,  he  based  his  re- 
fusal to  proceed  to  extremities  upon  the  necessity  of  con- 
ciliating the  Indians;  and,  as  his  officers  for  the  most  part 
agreed  with  him.  Father  Boil  had  to  accept  the  affront  with 
the  best  grace  he  could. 

It  would  have  been  small  matter  for  astonishment  if  the 
poor  cacique  had  indeed  cast  off  his  Spanish  allies  on  the 
first  good  chance,  for  his  fidelity  had  been  rudely  tested.. 
Irving,  following  Oviedo,  states,  that  except  the  commander, 
James  de  Arana,  and  one  or  two  others,  the  thirty-eight  col- 
onists were  men  whom  it  was  the  height  of  folly  to  leave  in 
any  responsible  position,  for  that  they  were  nearly  all  of  the 
very  lowest  class,  and  for  the  most  part  common  sailors, 
who  can  never  be  trusted  to  conduct  themselves  with  discre- 
tion ashore.  This  is  not  the  fact.  About  half  of  the  num- 
ber were  either  gentlemen  or  master- tradesmen,  and  it  might 
have  been  presumed  that  for  a few  months,  in  so  ex- 
ceptional a position,  all  would  be  on  their  best  behavior. 
If  they  had  adhered  to  only  a small  portion  of  the  wise  in- 
struction left  by  Columbus,  they  might  have  been  found 
alive  on  his  return. 

By  the  Indian  account,  in  which  there  was  no  conflicting 
testimony,  the  Nina  was  scarcely  out  of  sight  when  the  gar- 
rison of  the  fort  began  to  do  very  much  as  they  liked. 
They  had  found  the  Indians  of  Hispaniola  so  yielding  and 
apparently  so  helpless  that  they  probably  thought  them- 
selves quite  free  from  present  apprehension,  and  fancied 
that  it  would  be  time  enough  for  submitting  to  unpleasant 
constraint  when  some  real  danger  should  arise.  They 
roamed  about  the  country  in  parties  of  two  and  three  to- 
gether, extorting  gold  from  the  natives,  often  with  violence, 
carrying  off  women,  and  by  their  incessant  wrangling  and 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


105 


shameful  licentiousness  doing  their  best  to  prove  that  they 
were  not  celestials,  and  thus  to  destroy  that  superstitious 
reverence  which  had  been  their  chief  security. 

Arana’s  authority  was  set  at  defiance.  His  lieutenants, 
Gutierrez  and  Escobedo,  aspired  to  share  his  command,  and, 
having  killed  a Spaniard  in  some  quarrel,  they  took  the  law 
into  their  own  hands,  and  marched  away  with  nine  malcon- 
tents and  their  Indian  wives  into  the  mountains,  where 
Caonabo,  a Carib  by  origin,  slew  them  all  at  once.  Others 
lived  at  loose  quarters  among  Guacanagari’s  Indians, 
screened  by  his  authority  from  the  punishment  which  their 
sins  deserved.  Finally  Caonabo,  having  fleshed  his  sword 
and  found  the  invaders  not  invulnerable,  came  down  from 
his  hills,  burnt  the  Indian  village,  and  stormed  the  fort, 
killing  the  brave  James  de  Arana  and  his  remnant  of  ten 
faithful  men. 

Guacanagari  returned  the  visit,  going  on  board  the  Ad- 
miral’s ship.  Here,  unfortunately,  one  of  the  Indian  wo- 
men, who  had  fled  from  the  Caribs  and  had  been  detained 
for  instruction  and  baptism,  so  captivated  by  her  beauty 
the  susceptible  heart  of  the  cacique,  that  he  chivalrously 
determined  to  free  her  and  her  companions  and  to  brave  the 
consequences.  He  saw  that  he  was  no  longer  trusted  by  the 
Spaniards,  and  all  the  studied  kindness  of  Columbus  could 
not  make  him  feel  at  his  ease,  especially  now  that  he  was 
actually  scheming  the  liberation  of  Catalina  and  her  friends. 
Father  Boil  read  disaffection  in  the  chief’s  looks,  and  was 
confirmed  in  his  conviction  that  this  was  the  real  murderer 
of  Arana. 

When  a few  days  later  the  Indian  women  effected  their 
escape  and  Guacanagari  and  all  his  subjects  disappeared 
from  the  coast.  Father  Boil  was  triumphant.  Subsequently 
the  cacique  gave  incontestable  proofs  of  his  friendship  for 
Columbus,  and  he  died  in  obscurity,  hated  by  the  Indians 
of  other  tribes  for  having  welcomed  and  protected  their 
destroyers.  Columbus  spoke  to  him  of  Jesus  Christ  and 
Baptism,  but  alas ! he  had  seen  more  than  enough  of  what 
Christianity  meant,  at  least  in  practice,  and  he  distinctly 


106 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


refused  to  wear  a medal  of  our  Blessed  Lady  round  his  neok, 
though  at  last,  upon  the  urgent  entreaty  of  the  Admiral — 
whom  he  really  loved — he  consented  to  keep  one  in  his 
possession. 

The  misfortunes  which  had  befallen  the  Spaniards,  in  the 
vicinity  of  this  harbor,  threw  a gloom  over  the  place,  and  it 
was  considered  as  under  some  baneful  influence,  or  malignant 
star.  The  situation,  too,  was  unhealthy,  and  there  was  no 
stone  in  the  neighbourhood  for  building.  Columbus,  there- 
fore, removed  to  a harbor  about  ten  leagues  east  of  Monte 
Christi,  protected  on  one  side  by  a natural  rampart  of  rocks, 
and  on  the  other  by  an  impervious  forest,  with  a fine  plain 
in  the  vicinity,  watered  by  two  rivers. 

Here  the  troops  and  persons  to  be  employed  in  the  colony 
were  disembarked,  together  with  the  stores,  arms,  ammu- 
nition, and  live  stock.  An  encampment  was  formed,  and 
the  plan  of  a city  traced  out  and  commenced,  to  which 
Columbus  gave  the  name  of  Isabella,  in  honor  of  his  royal 
patroness.'  The  public  edifices,  such  as  a church,  a store- 
house, and  a residence  for  the  Admiral,  were  constructed  of 
stoue ; the  rest  of  wood,  plaster,  reeds,  and  such  other  ma- 
terials as  could  be  readily  procured. 

For  a time  every  one  exerted  himself  with  zeal ; but  mal- 
adies soon  began  to  make  their  appearance.  Many  had 
suffered  from  sea-sickness,  and  the  long  confinement  on 
board  of  the  ships ; others  from  the  exhalations  of  a hot  and 
moist  climate,  dense  natural  forests,  and  a new,  rank  soil. 
The  maladies  of  the  mind  also  mingled  with  those  of  the 
body.  Many,  as  has  been  shown,  had  embarked  in  the  en- 
terprise with  the  most  visionary  and  romantic  expectations. 
AVhat,  then,  was  their  surprise  at  finding  themselves  sur- 
rounded by  impracticable  forests,  doomed  to  toil  painfully 
for  mere  subsistence,  and  to  attain  every  comfort  by  the 


* The  climate  was  bad  and  the  new  city  had  a short  existance.  At  the  present  day,  Isabella  is 
quite  overgrown  with  forests,  in  the  midst  of  which  are  still  to  be  seen  partly,  the  pillars  of  the 
chnrch,  some  remains  of  the  King’s  storehouses  and  part  of  the  residence  of  Columbus — all 
built  of  hewn  stone.  The  small  fortress  is  also  a prominent  ruin;  and  a little  north  of  it  is  a 
rircular  pillar  about  ten  feet  high  and  as  much  in  diamater,  of  solid  masonry,  nearly  entire, 
u l-Vh  appears  to  have  had  a wooden  gallery  or  battlement  round  the  top  for  convenience  of 
T"  ■■  1.  and  in  the  centre  of  which  was  planted  the  flag-staff. — Irving. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


107 


severest  exertion ! As  to  gold,  which  they  had  expected  to 
find  readily  and  in  abundance,  it  was  to  be  procured  only  in 
small  quantities,  and  by  patient  and  persevering  labor. 

But  to  return.  Soria’s  peculations  were  patent  to  Colum- 
bus when  the  cargoes  were  discharged.  The  provisioning- 
had  been  “economized”  in  quantity  and  quality,  for  it  is  an 
error  to  suppose  that  short  measure  and  adulteration  are  of 
modem  invention. 

Since  it  would  be  necessary,  as  soon  as  the  weather  im- 
proved, to  send  back  the  greater  part  of  the  fleet,  Columbus 
dispatched  without  delay  two  exploring  parties  under  Ojeda 
and  Gorvalan.  Both  returned  with  enthusiastic  reports  of 
the  vegetable  and  mineral  wealth  of  the  island,  which  came 
just  in  time  to  throw  a gleam  of  sunshine  upon  the  dark 
story  of  disaster. 

Columbus  sent  off  twelve  of  the  ships  under  Anthony  de 
Torres,  giving  him  a letter  to  the  sovereigns,  full  of  sanguine 
anticipations,  but  ending  with  a petition  for  fresh  supplies 
of  all  kinds.  This  letter,  which  is  still  extant,  affords  proof 
of  the  administrative  wisdom  of  Columbus,  and  the  margin- 
al notes  show  that  his  suggestions  received  cordial  approval, 
except  that  a proposal  to  enslave  the  cannibals  with  the  two- 
fold object  of  saving  their  victims,  and  possibly,  by  a little 
wholesome  penal  servitude  reforming  the  criminals  them- 
selves, gave  Isabella  matter  for  careful  meditation.  After 
much  thought  and  much  consultation  of  learned  theolo- 
gians. she  decided  that  all  the  Indians — even  the  Caribs — 
were  to  be  won  over  by  gentleness.  Afterwards,  however, 
Isabella  changed  her  opinion  in  part,  and  withdrew  her  pro- 
tection from  cannibals. 

As  we  have  observed,  the  building  of  the  new  city  of  Isa- 
bella was  undertaken  -with  an  enthusiastic  industry  which 
was  soon  to  give  way  to  disappointment.  The  much-coveted 
gold  came  in  but  slowly,  and  epidemic  sickness  completed 
the  general  dispondency.  Columbus,  although  he  was  him- 
self weak  and  suffering,  tried  to  push  forward  the  public 
works,  and  to  encourage  the  workmen;  but  when  the  fleet 
had  departed  for  Europe,  discontent  spread  rapidly. 


108 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


The  mischief-making  metallurgist  announced  with  all  the 
dogmatism  of  ignorance  that  the  fancied  gold  was  only  iron 
pyrites,  or  something  similar,  that  the  golden  ornaments  of 
the  natives  were  heirlooms,  and  could  not  be  replaced,  and 
tiiat  all  the  golden  dreams  were  a delusion.  A plot  was  con- 
certed to  seize  the  remaining  five  ships  and  return  to  Spain, 
but  Columbus  discovered  it  in  time,  and  having  arrested  the 
chief  conspirator,  Bernard  Diaz,  an  officer  of  high  rank,  who 
held  a direct  appointment  from  the  Crown,  sent  him  to  Spain 
to  be  tried. ' To  prevent  any  further  attempt,  he  put  all  the 
artillery  and  ammunition  upon  one  vessel,  which  he  consign- 
ed to  trustworthy  hands. 

Then,  leaving  his  brother  James  in  charge  of  the  ships  and 
the  town,  he  had  a general  expedition  into  the  interior, 
forming  a little  army  of  infantry  and  cavalry,  which  ob- 
served strict  discipline  and  moved  in  imposing  array,  always 
marching  past  the  Indian  settlements  with  drums  beating 
and  colors  flying,  towards  the  mountains  of  Cibao,  where 
ruled  the  warlike  Caonabo.  Some  of  the  natives  came  for- 
ward to  propitiate  them  with  presents,  others  took  refuge  in 
their  huts,  apparently  deeming  themselves  safe  behind  the 
frail  rampart  of  a wattled  gate.  Columbus  did  not  permit 
his  soldiers  to  dispel  the  innocent  delusion.  Suddenly  they 
came  to  a mountain  pass,  and  a view  imposing  and  pictur- 
esque broke  on  their  astonished  vision. 

The  luxuriant  landscape  extended  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  until  it  appeared  to  melt  away,  and  mingle  with  the 
horizon.  The  Spaniards  were  filled  with  rapture  at  the  sight 
of  this  beautiful  country.  Columbus  gave  it  the  name  of  the 
Vega  Real,  or  Royal  Plain.’  To  the  ardent  soul  of  the  Ad- 
miral, as  he  gazed  from  the  mountain  pass  across  the  glori- 
ous plain,  the  scene  before  him  was  as  a glimpse  of  Paradise. 
It  was,  however,  very  much  too  soon  to  dream  of  Heaven. 


• This  was  the  first  time  Colambns  exercised  the  right  of  punishing  delinquents  on  his  new 
government,  and  it  immediately  caused  a great  clamor  against  him.  Already  the  disadvantages 
®f  hemg  a. foreigner  was  clearly  manifested.  He  had  no  natural  friends  to  rally  round  him: 
whereas  the  mutineers  had  connections  in  Spain,  friends  in  the  colony,  and  met  with  sympathy 
in  every  discontented  mind. — Irving. 

* According  to  Bishop  Las  Casas  this  noble  plain  is  eighty  leagues  in  length  and  from  twenty 
thirty  in  breadth. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


lOO 


When  the  Indians  beheld  this  band  of  warriors,  emerging 
from  the  mountains  with  prancing  steeds  and  floating  ban- 
ners and  glittering  armor,  and  heard,  for  the  first  time,  their 
rocks  and  forests  echoing  to  the  din  of  drum  and  trumpet, 
they  were  bewildered  with  astonishment.  The  horses,  es- 
pecially, excited  their  terror  and  admiration.  They  at  first 
supposed  the  rider  and  his  steed  to  be  one  animal,  and  noth- 
ing could  exceed  their  surprise  on  seeing  the  horseman  dis- 
mount. On  the  approach  of  the  Spaniards,  the  Indians  gen- 
erally fled  with  terror,  but  their  fears  were  soon  dispelled; 
they  then  absolutely  retarded  the  march  of  the  army  by  their 
hospitality;  nor  did  they  appear  to  have  any  idea  of  receiv- 
ing a recompense  for  the  provisions  they  furnished  in  abun- 
dance. The  untutored  savage,  in  almost  every  part  of  the 
world,  scorns  to  make  a traffic  of  hospitalit3^ 

After  marching  for  two  or  three  days  across  this  noble 
plain,  they  arrived  at  a chain  of  loftj"  and  rugged  moun- 
tains, amidst  which  lay  the  golden  region  of  Cibao.  On  en- 
tering this  vaunted  country,  the  whole  character  of  the  scen- 
ery changed,  as  if  nature  delighted  in  contrarieties,  and  dis- 
played a miser-like  poverty  of  exterior,  when  teeming  with 
hidden  treasures.  Nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  chains  of  rocky 
and  sterile  mountains,  scantily  clothed  with  pines.  The  very 
name  of  the  country  bespoke  the  nature  of  the  soil;  Cibao, 
in  the  language  of  the  natives,  signifying  a stone.  But 
what  consoled  the  Spaniards  for  the  asperity  of  the  soil,  was 
to  observe  particles  of  gold  among  the  sands  of  the  streams, 
washed  down,  no  doubt,  from  the  mines  of  the  mountains. 

Columbus  with  much  skill  selected  a strong  position,  and 
traced  out  the  plan  of  a fortress  intended  to  protect  the  pas- 
sage from  Isabella  to  these  gold-fields.  He  directed  the 
work  in  person,  and  having  named  the  fort  after  St.  Thomas 
—in  order  it  is  said  to  remind  his  followers  of  their  wrong- 
headed incredulity— he  appointed  Peter  Margarite,  a noble- 
man of  Catalonia  and  a Knight  of  the  Order  of  St.  James, 


‘ To  the  fortress  he  gave  the  name  of  St.  Thomas,  intended  as  a pleasant  though  pious  reproof 
of  the  incredulity  of  Cedo  and  his  doubting  adherents,  who  obstinately  refused  to  believe  that  the 
island  produced  gold,  until  they  beheld  it  with  their  eyes  and  touched  it  with  their  hands. — Irving. 


110 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


to  the  command,  with  a garrison  of  fifty-six  men.  He  him- 
self returned  with  the  rest  to  Isabella. 

The  island  of  Hispaniola  at  that  time  was  divided  into  five 
little  kingdoms,  under  five  independent  caciques.  News  did 
not  spread  rapidly  from  one  principality  to  another,  and  the 
Indians  of  the  Royal  Plain  still  regarded  the  strangers  with 
veneration.  Caonabo  was  not  once  heard  of  in  the  course  of 
the  excursion.  A messenger  from  Peter  Margarite  very  soon 
brought  intelligence  that  the  Indians  showed  signs  of  hostil- 
ity, and  that  Caonabo  was  preparing  an  attack.  It  was  the 
the  old  story.  As  soon  as  the  protecting  presence  of  the 
commander-in-chief  was  withdrawn,  it  had  fared  ill  with 
the  poor  Indians.  The  Spaniards  had  learned  to  obey  him, 
but  they  obeyed  no  one  else,  and  Margarite  even  set  the  ex- 
ample of  licentious  conduct.  A reinfv.rcement  of  twenty 
men  was  considered  quite  sufficient  for  the  occasion,  and 
thii’ty  more  were  told  off  to  make  a road  for  the  passage  of 
troops. 

The  real  anxiety  of  Columbus,  however,  lay  in  the  new 
city.  Strange  maladies  caused  by  noxious  vapors,  and 
helped  by  vicious  indulgence,  spread  rapidly  among  the 
Spaniards.  The  supply  of  Hour  failed,  and  hands  to  grind 
the  wheat  were  growing  scarcer  every  day.  It  was  no  time, 
the  Admiral  thought,  for  standing  upon  pride  of  rank.  He 
ordered  all  the  able-bodied  men,  gentle  and  simple,  to  take 
their  turn  at  the  grinding,  under  penalty  of  having  their  ra- 
tions diminished.  This  was  an  indignity  not  to  be  borne  by 
the  ‘ ‘ blue  blood’  ’ of  Spain,  even  though  no  other  course 
could  save  the  little  colony  from  famine  and  pestilence. 

Father  Boil,  the  Vicar- Apostolic,  sympathized  with  the 
young  cavaliers,  and  reproved  Columbus  for  his  ‘ ‘ cruelty  ’ ’ 
when,  according  to  his  threat,  the  Admiral  punished  the 
refractory  by  diminution  of  rations.  By  loudly  proclaim- 
ing his  disapprobation  of  the  measure  adopted,  the  Vicar- 
Apostolic,  perhaps  thoughtlessly,  did  much  to  foment  dis- 
affection. 

When,  in  spite  of  his  remonstrances,  the  Admiral  per- 
sisted in  his  conscientious  efforts  to  save  his  people  from  do 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


Ill 


struction.  Father  Boil  committed  the  extravagent  folly  of 
excommunicating  him,  for  doing  what  Columbus  felt  to  be 
his  duty.  He  was  altogether  incaj^able  of  understanding  the 
great  soul  of  Columbus.  Either  the  theological  course  of 
study  at  La  Rabida,  or  common  sense  was  enough  to  certify 
to  the  Discoverer  of  America  thct  the  censures  of  the  Church 
only  fall  upon  sinful  acts,  and  the  t where  no  fault  exists  ex- 
communication  only  causes  external  annoyance,  and  im- 
poses no  obligation  binding  in  conscience  beyond  the  general 
duty  of  receiving  even  an  unjust  sentence  vdth  respectful 
demeanor.  Under  very  peculiar  circumstances  acquiescence 
may  be  sinful.  Even  ecclesiastical  superiors  must  be  dis- 
obeyed if  they  command  an  injustice,  and  spiritual  penal- 
ties in  such  case  fall  harmlessly  upon  the  soul,  which  in 
good  faith  disregards  them  at  the  bidding  of  conscience.  ‘ 

Father  Boil  was  resisting  legitimate  authority  in  a civil 
matter,’  and  deserved  chastisement.  As  he  did  not  possess 
the  spirit  of  a martyr,  a little  fasting  on  bread  and  water 
had  the  effect  of  reducing  him  to  silence,  though,  of  course 
it  did  not  improve  his  temper. 

Many  proud  spirits  had  been  offended  beyond  forgiveness, 
but  a more  conciliatory  policy  might  have  been  even  more 
disastrous,  and  probably  was  not  feasible.  The  hidalgos 
were  not  open  to  argument  where  their  pride  was  touched. 
To  exempt  them  from  a share  in  the  burthen  was  to  throw 
it  all  upon  a few  poor  men,  who  with  their  decreasing  num- 
bers would  have  had  to  be  literally  worked  to  death  to  supply 
the  growing  wants  of  the  invalids  and  privileged  idlers. 
Columbus  in  this  emergency  showed  once  more  that  indom- 
itable will  which  clings  to  duty  at  all  costs,  and  braves 
popular  clamor  rather  than  commit  injustice  or  depart  the 
breath  of  a hair  from  principle. 

When  by  the  unflinchiug  energy  of  the  Admiral  good 
order  had  been  to  some  extent  restored,  the  garrison  of 
Isabella  was  sent  under  Ojeda  to  St.  Thomas,  where  Peter 


* See  Gury,  “Compend.  Theol.  >[or.  V.  n. 

’ It  must  not  he  forgotten  that  Colnrabus  was  Viceroy  of  the  Indies,  and  as  such  the  civil  sa 
perior  of  the  whole  colony,  lay  and  clerical. 


112 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


Margarite  and  Ojeda  were  to  exchange  commands,  Ojeda  re- 
maining in  charge  of  the  fortress,  and  setting  Margarite  free 
for  a military  progress  round  the  island.  He  sent  many  ad 
mirable  instructions  to  Peter  Margarite,  whose  virtue  he  had 
not  yet  found  cause  to  doubt.  He  ordered  him  to  be  most 
circumspect  in  his  dealings  with  the  natives,  to  treat  them 
with  scrupulous  justice,  and  to  do  his  best  to  win  their  af- 
fections and  predispose  them  for  becoming  Christians.  Sug 
gestions  are  added  in  curious  detail  for  capturing  Caonabo 
by  stratagem. 

The  next  thing  was  to  provide  for  the  maintenance  of 
good  order,  and  to  this  end  Columbus  appointed  a council 
consisting  of  Father  Boil  and  three  leading  men,  under  the 
presidency  of  his  brother  Don  James,  to  govern  the  colony 
in  his  absence.  Fmally  he  set  sail  vuth  three  of  the  five  re- 
maining ships,  selecting  those  of  the  lightest  draught.  The 
one  which  he  took  for  himself  was  the  same  brave  little 
Nina  which  had  served  him  so  faithfully  before.  It  seemed 
almost  ungrateful  to  change  that  now  famous  name ; but  to 
confer  the  name  of  the  great  Franciscan  saint  was  in  the 
judgment  of  Columbus  only  to  add  honor,  and  so  the  Nina 
became  the  Santa  Clara! 

Independently  of  all  the  grief  and  anxiety  which  the  mis- 
conduct of  the  Spaniards  had  caused,  the  delay  itself  must 
have  been  a severe  trial  to  the  impetuous  spirit  of  a discov- 
erer. At  last,  however,  Columbus  was  able  to  continue  his 
voyage.  On  the  24th  of  April,  he  sailed  from  Isabella,  taking 
with  him  three  small  vessels,  fit  to  run  in  the  shallow  water 
of  coasts  and  rivers.  The  plan  of  this  expedition  was  to  re- 
visit Cuba  at  the  point  where  he  had  abandoned  it  on  his 
first  voyage,  and  thence  to  explore  it  on  the  southern  side. 
As  has  n.Iready  been  observed,  he  supposed  it  to  be  a conti- 
nent, and  the  extreme  end  of  Asia,  and  by  following  its 
shores,  trusted  to  arrive  at  Mangi,  and  Cathay,  and  other 
rich  countries,  forming  part  of  the  territories  of  the  Grand 
Khan,  described  by  Marco  Polo. 

Having  arrived  at  the  eastern  end  of  Cuba,  he  sailed  along 


• St  Clare. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


113 


tlie  southern  coast,  touching  once  or  twice  in  the  harbors. 
The  natives  crowded  to  the  shores,  gazing  with  astonishment 
at  the  ships  as  they  glided  gently  along  at  no  great  distance. 
They  held  up  fruits  and  other  provisions,  to  tempt  the 
Spaniards  to  land ; while  others  came  off  in  canoes,  offering 
various  refreshments,  not  in  barter,  but  as  free  gifts.  On 
inquiring  of  them  for  gold,  they  uniformly  pointed  to  the 
south,  intimating  that  a great  island  lay  in  that  direction, 
where  it  was  to  be  found  in  abundance. 

On  the  3d  of  May,  therefore,  Columbus  turned  his  prow 
directly  south.  He  had  not  sailed  many  leagues  before  the 
blue  summits  of  Jamaica  began  to  rise  above  the  horizon. 
It  was  two  days  and  a night,  however,  before  he  reached  it, 
filled  with  admiration,  as  he  gradually  drew  near,  at  its  vast 
extent,  the  beauty  of  its  mountains,  the  majesty  of  its  for- 
ests, and  the  great  number  of  villages  which  animated  the 
whole  face  of  the  country.  He  coasted  the  island  from 
about  the  centre  to  the  western  end.  The  natives  appeared 
to  be  more  ingenious  as  well  as  more  warlike  than  those  of 
Cuba  and  Hayti.  Their  canoes  were  constructed  with  more 
art,  and  ornamented  at  the  bow  and  stern  with  carving  and 
painting.  Many  were  of  great  size,  hollowed  from  trunks 
of  the  mahogany  and  other  magnificent  trees,  which  rise 
like  verdant  towers  amidst  the  rich  forests  of  the  tropics. 
Every  cacique  had  a large  state  canoe  of  the  kind.  One 
measured  ninety-six  feet  in  length,  and  eight  feet  in  breadth, 
formed  of  a single  tree. 

Being  disaxjointed  in  his  hopes  of  finding  gold  in  Jamaica, 
Columbus  determined  to  return  to  Cuba.  As  he  was  about 
to  leave  the  island,  a young  Indian  came  off  to  the  ship, 
and  begged  that  the  Spaniards  would  take  him  with  them 
to  their  country.  He  was  followed  by  his  relatives  and 
friends,  supplicating  him  to  abandon  his  purpose.  For 
some  time  he  was  distracted  between  concern  for  their  dis- 
tress, and  an  ardent  desire  to  see  the  home  of  the  won- 
derful strangers.  Curiosity,  and  the  youthful  propensity 
to  rove,  at  length  prevailed ; he  tore  himself  from  the  em 
braces  of  his  friends,  and  took  refuge  in  a secret  part  of  the 


114 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


ship,  from  the  tears  and  entreaties  of  his  sisters.  Touched 
by  this  scene  of  natural  affection,  and  pleased  with  the  con- 
fiding spirit  of  the  youth,  Columbus  ordered  that  he  should 
be  treated  with  especial  kindness. 

Having  steered  again  for  Cuba,  Columbus,  on  the  18th  of 
May,  arrived  at  a great  cape,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of 
Cabo  de  la  Cruz,'  which  it  still  retains.  Coasting  to  the 
west,  he  soon  got  entangled  in  a labyrinth  of  small  islands 
and  keys  ; some  of  them  were  low,  naked,  and  sandy,  others  • 
covered  with  verdure,  and  others  tufted  with  lofty  and  beau- 
tiful forests.  As  the  ships  glided  along  the  smooth  and 
glassy  channels  which  separated  the  islands,  the  magnificence 
of  their  vegetation,  the  soft  odors  wafted  from  flowers  and 
blossoms  and  aromatic  shrubs,  the  splendid  plumage  of 
scarlet  cranes,  flamingoes,  and  other  tropical  birds,  and  the 
gaudy  clouds  of  butterflies,  all  resembled  what  is  described 
of  oriental  climes.  He  persuaded  himself,  therefore,  that 
these  were  the  islands  mentioned  by  Marco  Polo,  as  fringing 
the  coast  of  Asia,  and  he  gave  the  cluster  the  name  of  the 
Queen’s  Garden. 

Emerging  from  this  labyrinth,  Columbus  pursued  his  voy- 
age with  a prosperous  breeze  along  that  part  of  the  south- 
ern side  of  Cuba,  where,  tor  nearly  thirty-five  leagues,  the 
navigation  is  free  from  banks  and  islands : to  his  left  was 
the  broad  and  open  sea,  whose  dark-blue  color  gave  token 
of  ample  depth ; to  his  right  expended  a richly  wooded 
country,  called  Orncfay,  with  noble  mountains,  frequent 
streams,  and  numerous  villages. 

The  appearance  of  the  ships  spread  v onder  and  joy  along 
the  coast.  The  natives  came  off  swimming,  or  in  canoes,  to 
offer  fruits  and  other  presents.  When,  after  the  usual  even- 
ing shower,  the  breeze  blew  from  the  shore,  and  brought  off 
the  sweetness  of  the  land,  it  bore  mth  it  also  the  distant  songs 
of  the  natives,  and  the  sound  of  their  rude  music,  as  they 
were  probably  celebrating,  with  national  chants  and  dances, 
the  arrival  of  these  wonderful  strangers  on  their  coasts. 

If,  instead  of  a busy  politician  like  Father  Boil  and  the 


- Cape  ot  the  Croae. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


116 


virtuous  but  for  the  most  part  sadly  unenterprising  monks 
whom  be  had  chosen  to  accompany  him,  there  had  been  a 
few  genuine  apostles,  a more  glorious  field  for  missionai’y 
labor  than  the  fair  island  of  Cuba  could  scarcely  have  been 
found 

Animated  by  the  delusions  of  his  rich  fancy,  Columbus 
now  continued  to  follow  up  this  supposed  continent  of  Asia ; 
plunging  into  another  wilderness  of  keys  and  islets  towards 
the  western  end  of  Cuba,  and  exploring  that  perplexed  and 
lonely  coast,  whose  intricate  channels  are  seldom  visited, 
even  at  the  present  day,  except  by  the  lurking  bark  of  the 
smuggler  and  the  pirate.  In  this  navigation  he  had  to  con- 
tend with  almost  incredible  difficulties  and  perils ; his  vessels 
having  to  be  warped  through  narrow  and  shallow  passages, 
where  they  frequently  ran  aground.  He  was  encouraged  to 
proceed  by  information  which  he  received,  or  fancied  he  re- 
ceived, from  the  natives,  concerning  a country  farther  on, 
called  Mangon,  where  the  people  wore  clothing,  and  which 
he  supposed  must  be  Mangi,  the  rich  Asiatic  province  de- 
scribed by  Marco  Polo. 

His  crews  seem  to  have  partaken  of  his  delusion.  One 
day,  while  a party  on  shore  was  employed  in  cutting  ivood 
and  filling  water-casks,  an  archer  strayed  into  the  forest 
with  his  crossbow,  in  search  of  game,  but  soon  returned, 
flying  in  breathless  terror  He  declared  that  he  had  seen 
through  an  open  glade  a man  dressed  in  white  robes,  like  a 
friar  of  the  Order  of  Mercy,  so  that  at  first  he  took  him  for 
the  chaplain  of  the  Admiral.  He  was  followed  by  two 
others  dressed  in  white  tunics  reaching  to  their  knees,  and 
all  these  had  complexions  as  fair  as  Europeans.  Behind 
them  were  others,  to  the  number  of  thirty,  armed  with 
clubs  and  lances. 

Two  parties  were  dispatched,  well  armed,  on  the  follow- 
ing morning,  in  quest  of  these  people  in  white  : the  first  re- 
turned unsuccessful ; the  other  brought  word  of  having 
tracked  the  footprints  of  some  large  animal  with  claws,  sup 
posed  by  them  to  have  been  either  a lion  or  a grifiin : but 
which  most  probably  was  an  alligator.  Dismayed  at  the 


116 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


sight,  they  hastened  back  to  the  sea-side.  As  no  tribe  ol 
Indians  wearing  clothing  was  ever  discovered  in  Cuba,  it  ia 
probable  the  men  in  white  were  nothing  else  than  a flock  of 
cranes,  magnifled  by  the  fears  of  the  wandering  archer. 
These  birds,  like  the  flamingoes,  feed  in  company,  with  one 
stationed  at  a distance  as  a sentinel.  When  seen  through 
an  opening  of  the  woodland,  standing  in  rows  in  a shallow 
glassy  pool,  their  height  and  erectness  give  them,  at  flrst 
glance,  the  semblance  of  human  flgures. 

Firmly  convinced  that  he  was  coasting  the  shores  of  Asia, 
Columbus  hoped  by  continuing  on  to  arrive  p.t  the  Aurea 
Chersonesus  of  the  ancients,  doubling  which,  he  might 
return  to  Europe  by  the  way  of  the  Red  sea ; or,  circum- 
navigating Africa,  he  might  pass  by  the  Portuguese,  as 
they  were  groping  along  the  coast  of  Guinea ; and,  after 
having  navigated  round  the  globe,  furl  his  adventurous 
sails  at  the  pillars  of  Hercules,  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  the 
ancient  world ! 

But,  though  his  fellow  voyagers  shared  his  opinion  that 
they  were  coasting  the  continent  of  Asia,  they  shrunk  from 
the  increasing  perils  of  the  voyage.  The  ships  were  strained 
and  crazed  ; the  cables  and  rigging  much  worn ; the  provis- 
ions nearly  exhausted ; and  the  crews  worn  out  by  incessant 
labor.  The  Admiral,  therefore,  was  finally  persuaded  to 
abandon  all  further  prosecuti  >n  of  the  voyage.  Before  he 
turned  back,  however,  he  obliged  the  officers  and  seamen  to 
sign  a deposition,  declaring  their  perfect  conviction  that 
Cuba  was  a continent,  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  India. 
This  singular  instrument  was  signed  near  that  deep  bay 
called  by  some  the  Bay  of  Philipina,  by  others,  of  Cortes. 

At  this  very  time,  a ship-boy  from  the  mast-head  might 
have  overlooked  the  group  of  islands  to  the  south,  and  have 
beheld  the  open  sea  beyond.  Had  Columbus  continued  on 
for  two  or  three  days  longer,  he  would  have  passed  round 
the  extremity  of  Cuba ; his  illusion  would  have  been  dis- 
pelled, and  an  entirely  different  course  might  have  been 
given  to  his  subsequent  discoveries. 

Returning  now  towards  the  east,  the  crews  suffered  greatly 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


117 


from  fatigue  and  scarcity  of  provisions,  until  they  anclu  red 
one  day  in  the  mouth  of  a fine  river,  in  an  abundant  country, 
where  the  natives  soon  supplied  their  wants.  Here  Colum- 
bus landed  one  Sunday  morning  to  erect  a cross,  as  was  his 
custom  in  all  remarkable  places,  in  token  of  having  brought 
the  country  under  the  blessed  dominion  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
He  was  met  by  the  cacique  and  by  a venerable  Indian,  four- 
score years  of  age,  who  presented  him  with  a string  of  their 
mystic  beads,  and  a calabash  filled  with  delicate  fruit.  They 
then  walked  with  him,  hand  in  hand,  to  a stately  grove  on 
the  river  bank,  where  he  had  ordered  grand  mass  to  be  per- 
formed. The  assembled  natives  looked  on  with  great  rever- 
ence. When  the  ceremony  was  ended,  the  old  man  of  four- 
score approached  Columbus,  and  thus  addressed  him:  “I  am 
told  that  thou  hast  come  to  these  lands  with  a mighty  force 
and  hast  subdued  many  countries,  spreading  great  fear 
among  the  people.  Be  not,  however,  vainglorious.  Know 
that  the  souls  of  men  have  two  journeys  to  perform  after 
they  have  departed  from  the  body  ; one  to  a place  dismal, 
foul,  and  covered  with  darkness,  prepared  for  such  as  have 
been  unjust  and  cruel  to  their  fellow- men  ; the  other  full  of 
delight,  for  such  as  have  promoted  peace  on  earth.  If, 
then,  thou  art  mortal,  and  dost  expect  to  die,  beware  that 
thou  hurt  no  man  wrongfully,  neither  do  harm  to  those  who 
have  done  no  harm  to  thee.” 

This  speech  being  interpreted  to  Columbus,  he  was  moved 
by  the  simple  eloquence  of  the  savage,  and  rejoiced  to  hear- 
his  doctrine  of  the  future  state  of  the  soul,  having  supposed 
that  no  belief  of  the  kind  existed  among  the  inhabitants  of 
these  countries.  He  assured  the  old  man  that  he  had  been 
sent  by  his  sovereigns  to  teach  them  the  true  religion,  to 
protect  them  from  harm,  and  to  subdue  their  enemies,  the 
terrible  Caribs.  The  venerable  Indian  was  astonished  to 
learn  that  the  Admiral,  whom  he  had  considered  so  great 
and  powerful,  was  yet  but  a subject ; and  when  he  was  told  of 
the  grandeur  of  the  Spanish  monarchs,  and  of  the  wonders 
of  their  kingdom,  a sudden  desire  seized  him  to  see  this 
marvellous  country,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  the  tears  and 


118 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


remonstrances  of  his  wife  and  children  could  dissuade  him 
from  embarking. 

After  leaving  this  river,  Columbus  stood  over  to  Jamaica, 
and  for  nearly  a month  continued  beating  along  its  south- 
ern coast.  Anchoring  one  evening  in  a great  bay,  he 
was  visited  by  a cacique,  who  remained  until  a late  hour 
conversing  with  the  Indian  interpreter,  about  the  Span 
iards  and  their  country,  and  their  prowess  in  vanquishing 
the  Caribs. 

On  the  following  morning,  when  the  ships  were  under 
weigh,  three  canoes  issued  from  among  the  islands  of  the 
bay.  In  the  centre  one,  which  was  large,  and  handsomely 
carved  and  painted,  were  seated  the  cacique  and  his  family, 
consisting  of  two  daughters,  young  and  beautiful,  two  sons, 
and  five  brothers.  They  were  all  arrayed  in  their  jewels, 
and  attended  by  officers  decorated  with  plumes  and  mantles 
of  variegated  feathers.  The  standard-bearer  stood  in  the 
prow  with  a fluttering  white  banner,  while  other  Indians, 
fancifully  painted,  beat  upon  tabors,  or  sounded  trumpets 
of  fine  black  wood  ingeniously  carved.  The  cacique,  enter- 
ing on  board  of  the  ship,  distributed  presents  among  the 
crew,  and  thus  addressed  the  Admiral : 

“I  have  heard  of  the  irresistible  power  of  thy  sovereigns, 
and  of  the  many  nations  thou  hast  subdued  in  their  name. 
Thou  hast  destroyed  the  dwellings  of  the  Caribs,  slaying 
their  warriors,  and  carrying  their  wives  and  children  into 
captivity.  All  the  islands  are  in  dread  of  thee,  for  who  can 
withstand  thee,  now  that  thou  knowest  the  secrets  of  the 
land,  and  the  weakness  of  the  people?  Kather,  therefore, 
than  thou  shouldst  take  away  my  dominions,  I will  embark 
with  all  my  household  in  thy  ships,  and  will  go  to  render 
homage  to  thy  king  and  queen,  and  behold  thy  country,  of 
which  I hear  such  wonders.”  When,  however,  Columbus 
beheld  the  wife,  the  sons  and  daughters  of  the  cacique,  and 
considered  to  what  ills  they  would  be  exposed,  he  was 
touched  with  compassion,  and  determined  not  to  take  them 
from  their  native  land.  He  received  the  cacique  under  his 
protection  as  a vassal  of  his  sovereigns,  but  dismissed  him  for 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


HP 

the  present,  promising  that  at  some  future  time  he  would 
return  and  gratify  his  wishes. 

After  leaving  Jamaica,  he  coasted,  the  whole  of  the  south 
ern  side  of  Hayti,  and  experienced  great  hardships  in  a 
storm,  which  raged  for  several  days.  The  weather  having 
moderated,  he  set  sail  eastward,  with  the  intention  of  com- 
pleting the  discovery  of  the  Caribbee  islands.  The  fatigue, 
however,  which  he  had  suffered,  both  in  mind  and  body, 
throughout  his  voyage,  had  secretly  preyed  upon  his  health; 
and  the  late  tempest  had  kept  him  in  a fever  of  anxiety. 
He  had  shared  the  hardships  of  the  commonest  sailor,  nay 
more,  for  the  sailor,  after  the  labors  of  his  watch,  slept 
soundly,  while  the  anxious  commander  had  to  maintain  a 
constant  vigil,  through  long  stormy  nights.  Indeed,  it  is 
said,  the  Admiral  had  no  sleep  for  thirty-two  days.  The 
moment  he  was  relieved  from  all  solicitude,  and  found  him- 
self in  a tranquil  sea,  both  mind  and  body  sank  exhausted 
by  almost  superhuman  exertions.  He  fell  into  a deep  leth- 
argy, resembling  death  itself.  His  crew  feared  that  death 
was  really  at  hand.  They  abandoned,  therefore,  all  farther 
prosecution  of  the  voyage,  and  spreading  their  sails  to  a 
favorable  breeze  from  the  east,  bore  Columbus  back,  in  a 
state  of  complete  insensibility,  to  the  harbor  of  Isabella.' 

When  the  venerable  Admiral  returned  to  consciousness, 
he  found  his  brother  Bartholomew  standing  by  his  bed. 
Bartholomew,  who,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  sent  to  Eng- 
land, seems  to  have  met  with  many  delays  before  he  arrived 
at  the  English  court;  but  he  was  kindly  received  by  Henry 
VII.,  and  assistance  in  the  prosecution  of  his  design  was 
actually  promised.’  On  his  way  to  bear  the  good  tidings  to 


' Irving. 

’ Bartholomew  Columbus  left  Lisbon  1485  to  go,  on  the  part  of  his  brother,  to  propose  to  the 
king  of  England  the  project  of  discovery,  which  was  rejected  by  Portugal.  The  ship  he  sailed  in 
was  captured  by  pirates,  who  robbed  him  of  everything,  and  left  him  on  an  unknown  shore.  For 
a long  time  all  his  energy  was  taken  to  procure  the  necessaries  of  life,  and  renew  his  wardrobe 
to  effect  his  voyage.  He  spent  several  years  in  an  unprofitable  labor — in  constructing  spheres  and 
drawing  charts  for  mariners — before  he  could  succeed  in  reaching  the  coast  of  England.  There, 
he  had  first  to  learn  the  language  of  the  country,  to  provide  for  the  means  of  existence  to  obtain 
the  countenance  of  some  patrons,  and  to  learn  the  usages  and  etiquette  of  tihe  court.  It  was 
only  in  the  middle  of  the  year  1493  that  he  obtained  an  audience  of  King  Henry  VTI.  The  mon- 
arch liked  the  plan.  To  make  the  proof  more  striking,  Bartholomew  painted  an  atlas.  His  rea- 


120 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


his  brother,  he  heard  in  Paris  that  the  expedition  was 
already  an  accomplished  fact,  and  the  French  King  received 
him  with  high  honor  and  assisted  him  liberally  with  money. 
He  was  welcomed  with  open  arms  at  the  Spanish  court,  and, 
as  he  was  himself  an  experienced  navigator,  he  was  put  in 
command  of  three  vessels  which  were  starting  with  sup- 
plies. His  arrival  was  very  opportune,  for  though  James 
Columbus  was  a most  estimable  man,  he  was  not  formed  by 
nature  for  coercing  discontented  spirits. 

Bartholomew,  on  the  contrary,  was  a man  of  powerful 
frame  and  unbending  will,  knowing  by  intuition  the  mo- 
ment for  action,  and  striking  fearlessly.  He  had  not  the 
gentleness  of  his  great  brother,  the  Admiral,  but  his  manly 
virtue,  dauntless  nature,  and  genuine  nobility  of  character 
made  ample  amends  for  some  harshness  of  manner  and 
defect  of  refinement.  Although  he  was  a devoted  Catholic, 
with  unflinching  faith  and  honest  piety,  the  more  spiritual 
gifts  of  the  interior  life  were  rather  beyond  his  appreciation. 
James  was  naturally  of  a studious  turn.  He  revered  his 
brother  Christopher  as  a second  father,  and  looked  upon  it 
as  a call  from  Heaven  to  help  him  in  whatever  way  he  could. 

Christopher,  thanking  God  for  sending  him  the  brave  and 
noble  Bartholomew  at  that  critical  conjuncture,  at  once 
appointed  him  Adelantado  or  Governor,  and  put  all  the 
power  into  his  hands  during  his  own  convalescence.  Dur- 
ing the  five  months  of  his  absence  the  affairs  of  the  colony 
had  grown  all  but  desperate.  If  any  proofs  were  wanting 
of  the  Admiral’s  remarkable  ability  to  govern,  it  might  be 
found  in  the  invariable  confusion  which  marked  his  absence. 
The  wonder  is  not  that  one  trouble  followed  another  till 
ruin  stared  the  Spaniards  in  the  face,  but  that  discipline 
could  have  ever  been  maintained  at  all  among  such  wild 
and  reckless  libertines. 


eoning  was  so  c'.ear  and  convincing  that  the  King  welcomed  the  project,  and  entered  on  the 
preliminaries  of  a treaty  with  him.  Bartholomew  departed  immediately  to  seek  his  brother.— 
Count  de  Lorguet. 

Irving  thinks  that  Bartholomew  Columhns  was  not  “ highly  educated,”  but  we  are  not  snr*. 
•lat  many  of  the  “highly  educated”  people  of  our  day  can  speak  Latin,  Malian,  Portuguese,  Dastr 
M,  English,  and  Spanish,  as  Count  de  Lorguea  assures  us  Bartholomew  could. 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB  US. 


121 


We  must  now  turn  our  attention  to  another  affair.  Peter 
Margarite  left  Fort  St.  Thomas,  as  had  been  arranged,  in  the 
hands  of  Ojeda,  but  with  that  one  act  his  obedience  ended. 
Instead  of  making  the  prescribed  progress  round  the  island, 
he  descended  into  the  beautiful  vallej',  and  there  set  the 
example  to  his  soldiers  of  every  sordid  vice,  till  the  poor 
Indians  of  the  Royal  Plain  in  their  turn  learned  to  hate  the 
very  name  of  Spaniard.  Then,  terrified  to  think  of  what  he 
had  done,  he  concerted  with  the  help  of  Father  Boil,  to 
whom  of  course  he  did  not  reveal  his  own  misdeeds,  a clan- 
destine departure  to  Europe  for  the  purpose  of  representing 
to  the  sovereigns  the  miseries  which  the  misgovernment  of 
Columbus  had  brought  upon  the  poor  deluded  colonists  and 
the  poor  persecuted  Indians ! 

This  was  the  general  policy  of  the  enemies  of  Columbus. 
By  their  own  woeful  misconduct  they  made  peace  and  good 
order  impossible,  and  then  they  demanded  that  he  should 
be  punished  for  their  iniquities.  The  blackest  feature  in 
Margarite’s  dark  villainy,  is  his  base  ingratitude.  Columbus 
had  treated  him  with  marked  kindness,  and  had  written  in 
his  behalf  to  procure  the  favor  of  Isabella  for  the  wife  and 
children  left  in  Spain  by  the  Knight  of  St.  James. 

Father  Boil  was  easily  persuaded  that  it  was  his  duty  to 
inform  the  crown  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  colony,  and 
when  Columbus  returned  to  Isabella,  the  deserters  had  made 
good  their  flight  in  the  ships  which  brought  Bartholomew 
Columbus.  James’s  authority  had  been  despised  from  the 
first  by  the  hidalgo  faction.  Margarite  h .d  not  even  cared 
to  delegate  his  command.  The  soldiers  were  suddenly  left 
without  any  general,  and  could  not  long  conceal  their  weak- 
ness. Ten  Spaniards  were  killed  in  one  place,  and  forty 
more  were  burnt  in  a hospital  by  order  of  Gruatiguana,  a 
vassal  of  Gruarionex.  If  Father  Boil  had  remained  at  his 
post,  he  would  have  seen  with  his  own  eyes  a sufficient 
proof  of  the  innocence  of  Guacanagari,  whom  he  had  wished 
to  punish  for  the  massacre  of  La  Navidad.  This  faithful 
chief  now  came  unbidden  to  visit  Columbus,  and,  standing 
by  his  sick-bed,  informed  him  of  the  coalition  of  aU  the 


122 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB  US. 


other  great  caciques.  His  refusal  to  join  them  had  already 
cost  him  dear.  Caonabo  had  made  a hostile  incursion  into 
his  territory,  and  the  beloved  Catalina  was  left  among  the 
slain. 

Caonabo,  who  was  undoubtedly  the  leading  spirit  in  all 
the  island,  called  his  warriors  together  and  moved  to  the 
attack  of  Fort  St.  Thomas ; but  Ojeda  was  a real  soldier, 
and  was  on  his  guard.  He  maintained  strict  discipline 
within  the  fort,  and  by  personal  inspection  secured  the  vigi- 
lance of  all  under  him.  Caonabo,  finding  it  impossible  to 
surprise  him  by  day  or  night,  took  armed  possession  of  the 
surrounding  woods  and  tried  to  starve  the  garrison.  Ojeda 
reduced  the  allowance  of  food,  and,  seizing  his  opportunity, 
made  vigorous  sallies,  which  cost  Caonabo  the  bravest  of  his 
men,  till  the  Indian  chief,  convinced  that  storming  and 
starving  were  equally  hopeless,  decamped  at  the  end  of 
thirty  days. 

Giiatiguana  was  answerable  for  the  death  of  many  Span- 
iards and  could  not  be  allowed  to  go  unpunished.  Ojeda 
soon  met  him  in  open  field,  and  routed  his  army  and  took  many 
prisoners,  but  did  not  capture  the  chief  himself.  Then 
Columbus,  with  politic  mercy,  made  peace  with  Guarionex, 
refusing  to  hold  him  responsible  for  the  misdeeds  of  his 
subordinate,  but  he  also  took  care  to  build  the  strong  fort- 
ress of  Concepcion,  that  he  might  be  prepared  for  any  new 
insurrection  in  the  Vega;  for  with  Caonabo  and  Guatiguana 
still  at  large,  peace  could  not  be  deemed  secure. 

Soon  after  this  Ojeda  executed  one  of  the  most  daring 
stratagems  on  record.  He  went  with  nine  cavaliers  to  seek 
Caonabo  in  the  midst  of  his  own  people.  He  promised  to 
bestow  on  him  no  less  a gift  than  the  Angelas  bell  of  Fort 
St.  Thomas,  which  was  supposed  to  have  the  power  to  col- 
lect a multitude  by  the  sound  of  its  voice,  if  he  would  come 
to  Isabella,  and  make  terms  witli  Columbus.  The  offer  was 
too  tempting,  and  Caonabo  agreed  to  go,  but  he  insisted  on 
taking  a large  army  with  him.  On  the  march  Ojeda  per- 
suaded the  chief  to  mount  behind  him,  and  have  a ride  on 
tlie  proud  war-horse,  which  had  so  often  excited  his  admi- 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB  US. 


123 


ration.  He  anticipated  no  danger  witli  his  army  round  him, 
and  gladly  accepted  the  offer.  Ojeda  made  a few  circles 
with  his  delighted  captive,  before  the  eyes  of  all  the  Indians, 
and  then  set  spurs  to  the  horse,  while  the  other  cavaliers, 
closing  in  with  the  threat  of  instant  death,  secured  Caonabo, 
and  the  raid  was  successfully  accomplished. 

From  that  time  Caonabo  had  the  most  enthusiastic  rever- 
ence for  the  brave  Ojeda.  In  the  presence  of  Columbus,  the 
lordly  savage,  however,  would  not  give  the  slightest  sign  of 
respect,  but  when  Ojeda  entered  the  room,  he  rose  at  once 
to  salute  the  man  who  had  dared  to  carry  him  off  in  open 
day  with  all  his  warriors  looking  on.  His  courage  was  not 
yet  exhausted.  He  scowled  defiance  at  the  Spaniards — 
Ojeda  always  excepted — and  gloried  in  the  destruction  of 
La  Navidad,  boasting  moreover  that  he  had  been  prowling 
round  Isabella  with  the  intent  to  strike  a blow  of  the  same 
kind  there.  Columbus  treated  him  as  kindly  as  was  con- 
sistent with  safe  custody,  and  hoped  to  gain  that  proud 
spirit  to  Jesus  Christ,  subduing  it  first  by  the  splendt-r  of 
Castilian  royalty,  and  then,  in  the  strength  of  Christian 
charity,  leading  it  forward,  meek  and  humble,  to  the  waters 
of  Baptism. 

It  must  have  been  a relief  for  the  moment  to  have  Caonabo 
safe,  but  when  the  first  astonishment  of  the  Indians  had 
subsided,  their  hostility  only  became  more  bitter;  for  Mani- 
caotex,  the  brother  of  the  captured  cacique,  who  had  assumed 
his  authority,  shared  also  his  martial  spirit,  and  tried  to 
organize  a general  rising  of  the  tribes  for  his  release.  Grua- 
canagari  alone,  as  before,  refused  to  appear  to  the  summons, 
not  from  love  of  the  Spaniards,  but  from  personal  attach- 
ment to  Columbus. 

The  arrival  of  Anthony  de  Torres  with  four  shiploadf  of 
provisions  improved  the  condition  of  affairs.  -He  was  vhe 
bearer  of  a gracious  letter  from  Isabella,  asking  the  Admiral 
either  to  come  himself,  or  to  send  his  brother  Bartholomew 
or  some  one  whom  he  judged  competent,  to  be  present  at 
the  final  adjudication  of  a boundary  line  to  separate  the  pos- 
sessions of  Spain  and  Portugal.  Columbus  was  still  ill  in 


124 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


bed,  Bartholomew  could  on  no  account  be  spared,  so  James 
was  sent  to  counteract  as  far  as  possible  the  misrepresenta- 
tions of  Father  Boil  and  Peter  Margarite.  He  took  with 
him  five  hundred  Indian  prisoners,  to  be  dealt  with  at  the 
discretion  of  the  sovereigns. 

Isabella,  besides  writing  to  her  Viceroy  of  the  Indies,  had 
sent  a letter  to  the  colonists,  bidding  them  obey  him  as  they 
would  herself.  These  two  letters  would  do  more  than  much 
medical  attendance  to  help  the  convalescence  of  Columbus, 
and  he  rapidly  regained  his  health,  sufficiently  to  be  able  to 
take  the  field  in  person  against  the  confederate  caciques. 
All  the  effective  force  he  could  muster  amounted  to  two 
hundred  infantry,  twenty  horsemen,  and  a few  formidable 
bloodhounds,  while  word  was  brought  that  an  immense  mul- 
titude from  all  parts  of  the  populous  island  was  gathered  in 
the  Royal  Plain  within  two  day’s  march,  ready  to  burst 
upon  the  little  town,and  sweep  away  the  handful  of  detested 
invaders. 

The  crime  of  the  Spaniards  had  put  all  conciliation  out  of 
the  question,  and  Columbus,  forced  by  self-defence  to  be- 
come a conquerer,  assumed  the  offensive.  He  marched  out 
with  his  brother  Bartholomew.  Ojeda,  at  the  head  of  his 
twenty  horse,  was  a host  in  himself.  The  infantry  attacked 
in  two  divisions,  and  Ojeda  came  down  like  a whirlwind. 
The  Indians,  in  spite  of  their  number,  fled  panic-struck, 
yielding  to  the  resolute  little  band  of  Europeans  an  easy 
victory,  which,  if  we  are  to  compare  the  numbers  engaged 
on  both  sides,  two  hundred  men  against,  it  is  said,  one  hun- 
dred thousand.,  may  well  be  called  wonderful.  The  cam- 
paign was  thus  virtually  ended. 

Guacanagari  was  present  at  the  battle  as  an  ally  of  the 
Spaniards,  but  he  took  no  active  part  in  the  fighting.  This 
encounter  convinced  the  native  princes  that  it  was  vain  to 
struggle  with  their  fate,  and  even  Manicaotex  sued  for 
peace.  Guarionex  was  a second  time  admitted  to  pardon. 
Columbus  passed  round  the  island,  crushing  with  the  help 
of  Ojeda  any  lingering  spirit  of  resistance,  and  the  subjuga- 
tion was  nearly  completed.  Only  the  most  western  province 


VHRISrOPHEli  COL  UMB  US. 


125 


of  Xaragua  was  left  unvisited,  and  Behechio,  who  iiiled 
over  it,  maintained  his  independence  for  a little  time  longer. 
His  sister,  the  celebrated  Anacaona,  the  wife  of  Caonabo, 
had  taken  refuge  at  his  court,  but  although  her  husband 
had  been  so  roughly  handled  by  the  Spaniards,  she  bore 
them  no  ill-will. 

Columbus  had  been  forced  in  spite  of  himself  to  become  a 
conqueror,  but  however  reluctantly  he  had  gone  to  war, 
now  that  the  war  was  over  he  recognized  the  altered  state  of 
things.  The  Indians  were  no  longer  open-hearted  friends, 
but  beaten  and  sullen  foes.  They  had,  under  provocation 
assuredly,  but  not  on  that  account  less  truly,  intended  to 
wage  a war  of  extermination.  They  had  been  defeated  and 
must  pay  the  penalty.  Columbus  laid  the  caciques  under 
tribute,  and  fixed  a certain  quantity  of  gold-dust  to  be  regu- 
larly collected.  The  poor  Indians,  who  had  never  known 
what  real  hard  labor  was  till  then,  felt  that  an  unsupporta- 
ble  yoke  had  been  fastened  upon  their  necks,  and  groaned 
in  spirit  as  they  gazed  upon  the  grim  fortresses  and  knew 
too  surely  that  the  hated  strangers  did  not  mean  to  go  away 
again.  In  desperation  they  desisted  from  the  little  cultiva- 
tion of  the  soil  which  had  sufficed  to  satisfy  their  needs; 
but  though  they  inflicted  some  suffering  on  the  Spaniards, 
they  suffered  far  more  themselves  from  so  suicidal  a meas- 
ure. Out  of  this  regular  apportionment  of  tribute  grew  in 
process  of  time  the  dreadful  system  of  repartimie/itos.' 

Meanwhile  Father  Boil  and  Margarite  were  busily  defam- 
ing Columbus  to  protect  themselves.  They  charged  him 
with  tasking  the  community  with  excessive  labor  during  a 
time  of  general  sickness  and  debilitjq  with  stopping  the 
rations  of  individuals  on  the  most  trifling  pretext,  to  the 
great  detriment  of  their  health ; with  wantonly  inflicting 
severe  corporal  punishments  on  the  common  people,  and 
with  heaping  indignities  on  Spanish  gentlemen  of  rank. 
They  said  nothing,  however,  of  the  exigencies  which  had 
called  for  unusual  labor,  nor  of  the  idleness  and  profligacy 
of  the  commonalty,  which  required  coercion  and  chastise- 


• Partitions  or  distributions,  especially  of  slaves. 


12G 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


ment;  nor  of  the  seditious  cabals  of  the  Spanish  cavaliers, 
who  had  been  treated  with  indulgence  rather  than  severity. 
In  addition  to  these  complaints,  they  represented  the  state 
of  confusion  of  the  island,  in  consequence  of  the  absence  of 
the  Admiral  and  the  uncertainty  which  prevailed  concerning 
his  fate,  intimating  the  probability  of  his  having  perished  in 
his  fool -hardy  attempts  to  explore  unknown  seas  and  dis- 
cover unprofitable  lands. 

I'^abella,  in  truth,  could  not  but  feel  her  sublime  confi- 
dence in  Columbus  somewhat  shaken  by  the  apparently  dis- 
interested statement  of  a man  of  the  reputation  and  rank  of 
the  Yicar- Apostolic.  It  seemed  clear  that  the  affairs  of 
Hispaniola  required  investigation  in  any  case,  and  if  the 
Admiral  had  really  perished  at  sea,  it  became  doubly  neces- 
sary to  take  stringent  measures.  A fleet  was  on  the  point  of 
starting  with  supplies,  and  Fonseca  was  ordered  to  choose 
some  trusty  officer  for  the  command,  and  commission  him  to 
inquire  into  all  abuses  and  make  a full  report  of  the  same ; 
but  if  he  found  that  the  Admiral  had  returned  safe  from  his 
voyage,  he  was  not  to  supersede  him  or  interfere  with  his 
authority. 

At  this  conjuncture  Don  James  arrived,  and  not  only  bore 
witness  to  the  fact  that  Columbus  was  alive,  but  gave  quite 
a new  coloring  to  his  conduct.  Isabella  gladly  admitted  a 
more  favorable  judgment,  and  the  royal  orders  were  so  far 
modified  that  instead  of  allowing  Fonseca  to  select  his  own 
commissioner,  John  Aguado,  supposed  to  be  an  especial 
friend  of  Columbus,  was  sent  to  ascertain  the  state  of  the 
colony. 

Aguado,  like  Margarite,  had  experienced  the  marked 
favor  of  Columbus,  and,  like  Margarite,  returned  evil  for 
good.  He  had  been  chosen  for  his  office  with  the  express 
object  of  soothing,  as  far  as  possible,  the  unpleasantness  of 
the  measures  which  it  had  been  judged  necessary  to  adopt. 
The  royal  letters  of  credit  were  pompously  vague  ; but  in- 
stead of  softening  down  their  possible  meaning,  he  pushed 
it  to  the  extremest  limit. 

Columbus  was  engaged  in  suppressing  a fresh  revolt  of 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


127 


the  brothers  of  Caonabo  when  Aguado  arrived,  and  seemed 
to  him,  in  his  pitiful  conceit,  to  be  keeping  out  of  the  way 
in  fear  and  trembling.  He  insolently  ignored  Don  Bartholo- 
mew’s presence,  causing  the  terms  of  his  appointment  to  be 
proclaimed  with  sound  of  trumpet:  “Cavaliers,  esquires, 
and  other  persons,  who  by  our  orders  are  in  the  Indies,  we 
send  to  you  J ohn  Aguado,  our  groom  of  the  chambers,  who 
will  speak  to  you  on  our  part.  We  command  you  to  give 
him  faith  and  credit.”  Instead  of  keeping  to  his  instruc- 
tions and  collecting  information,  he  at  once  proceeded  to 
order  numerous  arrests,  and  had  the  presumption  to  send 
off  a troop  of  horse  to  find  the  recreant  Viceroy  in  his 
hiding-place  and  bring  him  to  judgment. 

Columbus  needed  no  summoning.  Aguado  was  preparing 
himself  for  the  encounter,  and  meant  to  show  who  Avas 
master.  He  was  quite  disconcerted  when  his  noble  victim 
meekly  signified  his  submission  to  the  will  of  the  sovereigns. 
Accusers  were  numerous,  for  the  star  of  Columbus  Avas 
declining,  and  as  soon  as  Aguado  had  collected  enough  evi- 
dence to  achieve  the  final  ruin  of  the  Genoese  adventurer  and 
his  upstart  family,  he  proposed  to  return  to  Spain.  Colum 
bus  resolved  to  go  Avith  him.  Just  as  they  were  preparing 
to  start,  the  most  fearful  storm  in  the  memory  of  man  sAA'ept 
over  the  harbor,  and  destroyed  all  the  caravels  except  the 
Santa  Clara, ' Avhich  bore  a charmed  life. 

While  she  AA^as  being  repaired  for  the  Admiral’ s OAvn  use, 
and  a new  A^essel  Avas  building  for  Aguado  from  the  wrecks, 
an  occurrence  someAvhat  fortunate  and  romantic  took  place. 
One  of  tlie  Admiral’s  young  officers,  Michael  Diaz,  having 
wounded  a comrade  in  a duel,  fled  for  refuge  to  a wild  quar- 
ter of  the  island.  Over  the  tribe  inhabiting  this  region  there 
reigned  a young  Indian  female  of  great  beauty,  the  AA’idoAv  of 
a cacique.  She  fell  in  lov^e  with  the  Spaniard,  and  married 
him  ; Diaz,  though  sincerely  attached  to  his  dusky  bride, 
mourned  in  secret  over  his  OAvn  country  and  his  lost  compan- 
ions. Anxious  to  dissipate  his  gloom,  the  affectionate  woman 
learned  from  him  at  length  the  passionate  ardor  with  which 


* Formerly  the  Vina. 


128 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


the  Spaniards  sought  after  gold,  and  the  fact  that  their 
continued  residence  in  Hispaniola  was  prompted  by  the 
hope  of  discovering  mines  yet  unknown. 

Delighted  at  the  thought  of  gratifying  her  lover,  she  im- 
mediately revealed  to  f.im  this  source  of  inexhaustible  treas- 
ure, among  the  mountains.  Diaz,  certain  of  his  pardon  at 
such  a price,  hastened  to  Columbus  and  intrusted  him  with 
the  important  eecret,  which  enabled  him  to  take  possession  of 
vast  wealth  in  his  Sovereigns’  name.  He  was  persuaded  that 
he  had  at  length  found  out  the  land  of  Ophir.  The  grateful 
Diaz  faithfully  returned  to  his  Indian  beauty,  who  was 
baptized  by  the  name  of  Catalina.  Their  marriage  received 
the  blessing  of  the  Church,  and  he  continued  to  share  with 
her  the  government  of  the  tribe. 

The  Admiral,  leaving  his  brother,  Don  Bartholomew,  in 
command,  set  sail  with  Aguado  on  the  10th  of  March,  1496. 
The  two  caravels  were  crowded  with  invalids  and  home-sick 
colonists. 

The  voyage  was  one  tedious  struggle  against  contrary 
winds,  so  that,  after  a month  of  tacking  and  veering,  the 
Caribbee  islands  were  still  in  sight.  Not  only  community  of 
interests  kept  the  vessels  together,  but  it  would  seem  that, 
once  at  sea,  Aguado  surrendered  his  supremacy.  Perhaps 
he  felt  it  safer  for  himself  to  keep  on  good  terms  with  a man 
who,  slandered  and  outraged  as  he  had  been,  was  still  the 
greatest  of  navigators,  a time  when  an  ocean  voyage  was 
still  a perilous  enterprise.  They  landed  in  Guadalupe  to 
take  in  supplies,  nor  did  they  make  their  second  start  till  the 
20th  of  April. 

Again  their  progress  was  so  slow  fhat  provisions  began  to 
fail  when  they  had  still  far  to  go,  and  at  the  beginning  of 
J une  the}^  were  reduced  to  such  famine  that  only  the  strong 
hand  of  Columbus  saved  the  Indians  on  board  from  being 
killed  and  eaten.  When  he  would  by  no  means  permit  this 
atrocity,  a clamorous  demand  was  made  that  the  poor  crea- 
tures might  be  thrown  overboard,  thus  at  least  to  lessen  the 
number  of  useless  mouths.  Columbus  stood  firm,  represent 
ing  that  Indians  were  fellow-men  with  souls  to  be  saved,  and 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


129 


that  these  Indians  in  particular  were  being  taken  to  Spain 
expressly  to  be  instructed  and  baptized.  He  added  that  in 
three  days  they  would  sight  Cape  St.  Vincent.  There  were 
many  experienced  seamen  with  him,  not  one  of  whom  agreed 
with  him  in  this  declaration,  though  they  were  also  widely 
at  variance  among  themselves. 

Once  more,  however,  he  was  right.  On  the  evening  of  the 
third  day  the  Admiral  maintained  that  the  land  was  near, 
and  gave  orders  to  take  in  sail  as  a precaution,  much  to  the 
displeasure  of  all  his  weary  and  famished  men,  who  loudly 
protested  that  they  could  not  bear  iheir  sufterings  any 
longer,  and  would  far  rather  run  the  risk  of  being  dashed 
ashore  in  the  dark  than  submit  to  any  unnecessary  prolonga- 
tion of  their  cruel  hunger  Daylight  revealed  Cape  St. 
Vincent,  and,  wifh  an  involuntary  impulse  of  returning 
reverence,  they  recognized  the  surpassing  skill  of  their  won- 
derful commander. 

The  invalids  in  the  ships  had  experienced  on  the  long 
voyage  the  fatherly  solicitude  of  Columbus,  and  many  who 
at  first  had  thought  favorably  of  Aguado  had  found  out  by 
constant  intercourse  his  vanity  and  worthlessness.  The 
poor  and  the  afflicted,  oppressed  Indians  or  sick  Spaniards, 
always  seemed  to  be  drawn  by  some  secret  sympathy  nearer 
in  their  distress  to  the  kind  heart  of  the  great  Admiral,  but 
their  friendship  was  no  protection  to  him  against  the  plots 
and  malice  of  powerful  enemies. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


A YEAR  IN  SPAIN. 

Columbus  as  a morik — Activity  of  his  enemies — Other  dif- 
ficulties— James  Ferrer — The  Admiral  drurd,s  up  his 
will — Belays,  and  preparations  fo^  another  voyage. 

The  ships  reached  Cadiz  on  the  11th  of  June.  Caonabo 
never  saw  Spain.  The  Admiral  had  hoped  to  win  him  by 
the  display  of  the  magnificence  of  Spanish  power,  and  then 
restore  him  to  his  former  influence  to  be  a useful  friend, 
but  his  wild  nature  pined  in  captivity,  and  the  dusky  war- 
rior died  on  the  voyage. 

The  wretched  condition  and  dejected  mien  of  the  starved 
crews  confirmed  the  sinister  reports  which  had  been  widely 
spread,  and  Columbus  was  once  again  in  popular  esteem  a 
visionary,  cheating  himself  and  his  followers  with  golden 
dreams.  His  sanguine  anticipations  were  met  with  a sneer 
of  incredulity.  Before  the  first  voyage  his  speculations  had 
appeared  unfounded;  after  the  second  voyage  his  unde- 
niable discoveries  were  declared  to  be  worse  than  useless. 

On  his  arrival  at  Cadiz,  Columbus  sent  to  inform  the  Sov- 
ereigns of  his  return  with  ^'.guado,  and  then  waited  a whole 
month  for  their  answer.  It  was  during  this  delay  that  he 
wore  publicly  the  habit  of  St.  Francis.  The  fact  is  incon- 
testable, and  the  motive  equally  so.  To  a Protestant  like 
our  Irving,  the  idea  of  an  Admiral  walking  about  the  streets 
in  the  cowl  of  a monk,  with  a rope  round  his  waist,  was  so 
singular  that  to  save  his  hero’s  sanity  he  felt  himself  bound 
to  suppose  that  this  was  the  fulfillment  of  another  of  those 
extravagant  vows  made  at  sea  under  stress  of  weather. 
There  is  no  mention  elsewhere  of  any  such  vow,  and  sensible 
Catholics  do  not  think  a man  insane  because  he  declares 
130 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


131 


that  he  is,  or  would  like  to  be,  a monk.  Columbus  had 
ample  cause  for  being  disgusted  with  the  world  and  its  in- 
gratitude, and  whether  Father  John  Perez  had  just  returned 
to  La  Rabida,  or  had  never  left  it,  Columbus  might  possibly 
have  wished,  with  the  consent  of  his  wife,  to  end  his  days  in 
the  peace  of  the  cloister;  or,  if  he  believed  that  the  ungrate- 
ful world  still  needed  his  assistance,  or  felt  with  a touch  of 
remorse  that  his  poor  wife  had  had  already  too  much  to 
suffer  on  his  account,  he  might  have  wished  to  signify  that 
he  was,  as  far  as  the  duties  of  his  state  of  life  permitted,  a 
true  son  of  St.  Francis.  We  hear  no  more  of  good  Father 
John  Perez,  except  the  solitary  fact  that  he  died  before  his 
illustrious  friend.  The  records  of  the  convent,  as  was  said 
before,  have  unfortunately  perished. 

A month’s  interval  gave  the  active  enemies  of  Columbus — 
Father  Bernard  Boil,  Peter  Margarite,  John  de  Aguado,  and 
the  potentate,  Fonseca — time  to  do  their  worst.  However, 
when  the  answer  to  his  letter  came  at  length,  it  was  all  that 
could  be  desired.  The  Sovereigns  expressed  their  gratitude 
and  congratulation,  ,and  invited  himself  to  Court  as  soon  as 
he  had  sufficiently  recovered  from  the  fatigues  of  his  voyage. 
Isabella  seems  to  have  had  all  her  doubts  dispelled  as  soon 
as  she  was  once  more  able  to  see  and  speak  to  Columbus. 

ot  one  word  of  blame  seems  to  have  been  spoken  in  the 
interview  at  Burgos,  and  though  we  know  from  subsequent 
events  that  Ferdinand  was  even  at  this  time  unfriendly,  yet 
Isabella  was  incapable  of  dissimulation,  and  soon  after  this 
she  wrote  to  Columbus  an  unofficial  letter,  still  extant, 
which  bears  witness  to  her  undiminished  veneration. 

The  time  was  almost  as  unpropitious  for  the  prosecution 
of  distant  discovery  as  the  closing  period  of  the  Moorish 
war  had  been.  Isabella’s  gentle  maternal  heart  was  entirely 
occupied  with  matrimonial  projects  for  the  welfare  of  her 
children,  and  Ferdinand  was  entirely  engrossed  with  his 
European  wars.  He  cared,  indeed,  notably  little  about  his 
new  dominions,  which  hitherto  had  been  more  burthensome 
than  lucrative  to  his  treasury.  King  Ferdinand,  though  a 
shrewd  man  of  business,  was  by  no  means  a far-sighted 


132 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


monarch.  Columbus  asked  for  eight  vessels  to  follow  up 
the  Cuban  explorations,  and  establish  a firm  footing  on  the 
mainland  of  Asia.  It  was  not  till  the  following  spring  (1497) 
that  the  proposal  received  real  attention.  In  the  meantime, 
the  kind  forethought  of  the  Queen  had  arranged  an  inter- 
view, which  gave  him  a new  friend,  worthy  to  stand  by  the 
side  of  Father  John  Perez,  or  to  take  his  place. 

James  Ferrer,  the  lapidary  of  Burgos,  is  very  briefly  men- 
tioned by  Irving,  who  'gives  the  substance  of  a letter  vTitten 
by  him,  at  the  command  of  Isabella,  to  Columbus,  advising 
him  to  explore  further  to  the  South.  He  was  a great  trav- 
eler and  a zealous  Catholic,  much  esteemed  by  Isabella,  and 
a personal  friend  ot  the  great  Cardinal  Mendoza. 

The  list  of  Ferrer’s  accomplishments  is  given  after  the 
pretentious  manner  of  those  days,  and  ranges  over  every- 
thing knowable  in  human  science,  from  mathematics  to 
poetry,  and,  besides,  he  was  a theologian.  The  versatility 
of  his  genius  may  be  conjectured  from  the  fact  that  the  pro- 
fessional mineralogist  and  observant  traveler  wrote  a theo- 
logical treatise  on  the  allegories  of  Dante,”  and  his  learn- 
ing seems  to  have  been,  in  the  judgment  of  his  contempo- 
raries, not  less  deep  than  varied.  The  fragments  of  his 
writings  which  remain  confirm  this  opinion.  He  was  a 
man  worth  knowing,  and,  as  he  had  by  this  time  returned 
from  his  travels  in  the  East,  Isabella  summoned  him  to 
Court.  He  had  formed  from  the  first  a high  idea  of  the 
scientific  value  of  the  achievments  of  the  venerable  Colum- 
bus, and  was  one  of  the  few  who  shared  with  Isabella  an 
insight  into  the  religious  character  of  the  enterprise,  which 
he  styled  “more  divine  than  human.” 

In  January  of  the  year  1495,  Ferrer  wrote  to  the  Queen, 
offering  some  advice  about  the  Papal  line  of  demarcation, 
and  in  the  letter  he  said : “I  believe  that  Grod,  in  the  high 
and  mysterious  designs  of  His  Providence,  has  chosen  him ' 
as  his  accredited  agent  for  this  work,  which  seems  to  me 
nothing  less  than  a prelude  and  preparation  to  the  things 


‘ Sentencias  Catolicas  del  divo  poela  Danla.  Barcelona,  1545. 
* Columbus. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


whicli  God,  according  to  His  good  Providence,  proposes  to 
make  known  to  us  in  due  time,  to  His  glory,  and  to  the 
salvation  and  happiness  of  the  world.” 

In  his  letter  to  Columbus  himself,  his  admiration  is  still 
more  marked.  He  writes : 

“The  infallible  Providence  of  God  sent  the  great  Thomas 
from  the  West  to  the  East,  to  make  known  to  the  Indies 
our  holy  Catholic  law;  and  you,  sir,  Providence  has  sent, 
by  an  opposite  path,  from  the  East  to  the  West,  in  order 
that,  by  the  Divine  will,  you  may  reach  the  East,  the  furth- 
est limits  of  Upper  India,  to  carry  to  the  nations,  which 
have  not  heard  the  preaching  of  Thomas,  the  knowledge 
of  salvation,  and  to  fulfill  the  words  of  the  Prophet:  In 
omnem  terrain  eximt  sonus  eorum. 

“Without  fear  of  error,  I affirm  that  you,  sir,  hold  the 
office  of  an  Apostle,  of  an  Ambassador  of  God,  sent  by 
the  Divine  decrees  to  reveal  His  Holy  Name  to  lands 
where  the  truth  is  still  unknown.  It  would  not  have  been 
beyond  the  claims  of  your  mission,  in  dignity  or  importance, 
if  a Pope  or  a Cardinal  of  Rome  had  shared  your  glorious 
labors  in  those  lands.  But  the  Pope  is  prevented  by  grave 
concerns,  and  the  Cardinal  by  his  relish  of  the  comforts  of 
life,  from  following  such  a course  as  yours.  It  is  quite  true, 
nevertheless,  that  with  an  object  like  yours  the  Prince  of 
the  Apostolic  army  came  to  Rome,  and  that  his  fellow - 
laborers,  vessels  of  election,  went  about  the  world,  spending 
their  strength,  severely  tried,  with  sandals  worn  and  gar- 
ments rent,  their  bodies  exhausted  by  the  dangers,  the 
hardships  and  fatigues  of  those  travels,  which  often  gave 
them  only  the  bread  of  bitterness  to  eat.”  ' 

The  friendship  of  such  a learned,  whole-souled  man  as 
James  Ferrer  came  when  it  was  most  needed  to  help  Colum 
bus  in  his  old  age,  to  keep  up  his  courage  to  the  end,  through 
many  tribulations. 

Isabella’s  kind  reception  of  Columbus  somewhat  deranged 
the  plans  of  his  calumniators.  Fonseca  saw  that  it  was 


> “This  letter,”  says  Father  Knight.  S.  J.,  “shows  that  James  Ferrer,  tme  Catholic  and  loyal 
■on  of  the  Pope,  was  no  timid  devotee.” 


134 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


necessary  to  proceed  cautiously,  for  though  his  unforgiven 
foe  was  going  down  the  hill,  he  was  not  quite  near  enough 
to  the  precipice  yet,  and  a premature  attempt  to  push  him 
over  might  be  dangerous  to  the  assailant.  No  amount  of 
royal  favor  could  remove  the  disagreeable  impression  pro- 
duced by  the  sallow  faces  and  wasted  frames  of  the  unsuc- 
cessful Argonauts,  and  even  when  the  Sovereigns  were  at 
leisure  at  last  to  give  all  requisite  orders  for  a new  expedi- 
tion, much  remained  to  be  done  before  the  orders  were  carried 
out,  and  the  state  of  things  sadly  resembled  what  we  have 
already  described  in  speaking  of  the  preparations  for  the 
first  voyage,  when  sailors  hung  back  in  dismay,  and  ship- 
owners put  all  obstacles  in  the  way  of  departure.  Fonseca 
did  not  dare  to  disobey  Isabella,  but  he  could  and  did  devise 
delays  and  impediments  in  the  execution  of  unwelcome 
commands.  The  wedding  of  Prince  John  was  followed 
exactly  six  months  later  by  his  death.  Columbus  would 
not  break  in  upon  the  deep  grief  of  his  royal  benefactress. 

The  Admiral,  hov/ever,  employed  part  of  his  forced  leisure 
in  executing  a Will,  or  deed  of  entail,  the  terms  of  which 
reveal  to  us  his  inmost  soul,  and  explain  much  that  would 
otherwise  want  explaining. 

He  begins  this  document  in  the  name  of  the  Blessed  Trin- 
ity, ‘ to  Whom  he  refers  the  first  idea,  and  the  complete 
conviction  which  succeeded  it,  that  a passage  to  the  Indies 
by  sailing  westward  was  possible.  He  recalls  with  gratitude 
that  by  the  grace  of  our  Lord  he  had  discovered  the  land  of 
the  Indies  and  numerous  islands,  and,  as  great  revenues 
are  sure  to  come  to  him  therefrom,  he  therefore  founds  this 
Majoratus' 

He  places  the  deed  under  the  protection  of  the  Holy  See, 
because  his  only  object  in  framing  it  is  the  service  of 
Almighty  God.  He  appoints  his  son,  Don  James,  his  heir, 
and  the  property  is  to  descend  by  primogeniture.  He 
requires  these  who  succeed  him  to  use  in  their  signature  no 

' Irving  writes:  ‘ Don  Fernando,  eon  to  Columbus,  says  that  his  father,  when  he  took  hit 
pen  in  hand  usually  commenced  by  writing  ‘ Jesm  cum  Maria  sil  nobis  in  via. ' ” 

* Majoralus,  i.  e.,  property  so  attached  to  an  hereditary  title  of  honor  as  to  descend  with  it. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


lao 

Other  title  than  that  of  Admiral^  and  to  add  always  the 
formula  which  he  had  invented,  and  which  was  a prayer  in 
itself,  namely,  “S.  S.  A.  S.  X.  M.  J.  XPO  Ferens,”  the 
letters  being  arranged  in  four  lines. 

The  first  stipulation  is  in  behalf  of  the  poor,  to  whom  a 
tenth  of  ail  the  revenues  is  to  be  assigned,  “for  the  honor  of 
God  Eternal  and  Almighty.”  Among  the  poor,  any  des- 
titute members  of  the  family  are  to  have  a prior  claim.  In 
this  last  clause  w^e  may  recognize  the  Christian  virtues  of 
humility  and  well-ordered  charity. 

Then  the  Admiral  proceeds  at  once  to  the  thought  which 
lay  nearest  to  his  heart,  the  long- cherished  purpose  of  re- 
covering the  Holy  Sepulchre  from  the  Turks.  He  bids  his 
son  and  heir  remember  that  when  he  was  planning  the  voy- 
age to  the  Indies,  he  had  designed  to  petition  the  Sovereigns 
to  devote  all  the  profits  to  the  conquest  of  Jerusalem,  and 
requires  him  accordingly  to  strive  to  amass  much  treasure, 
in  order  to  be  able  to  assist  the  King,  if  he  would  undertake 
the  enterprise,  or,  if  he  would  not,  then  to  fit  out  a large 
army  and  go  without  him ; in  which  case,  he  hoped  that  the 
help  refused  for  the  commencement  would  be  conceded  for 
the  prosecution  of  the  crusade. 

After  having  “liberated  his  soul”  with  regard  to  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  he  next  shows  his  keen  solicitude  for  the  tem- 
poral power  of  the  Pope : 

“Item,  I ordain  that,  if  for  the  chastisement  of  our 
sins,  any  schism  should  come  to  he  in  the  Church  of  God, 
and  any  person  of  any  rank  or  nation  whatsoever,  should 
endeavor  by  violence  to  deprive  it  of  its  privileges  and  pos- 
sessions, the  said  Don  Diego,  or  whosoever  shall  possess 
the  said  Majoratus,  do  immediately  under  pain  of  disin- 
heritance put  himself  at  the  feet  of  the  Holy  Father 
{unless,  indeed,  the  latter  should  have  turned  heretic,  a 
thing  which  God  will  not  permit),  and  offer  himself  and 
his  dependents  to  do  him  service  with  all  their  resources, 
with  arms  and  money,  interest  and  principal,  to  crush  the 
schism  and  prevent  the  spoliation  of  the  ChurchF 


136 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


That  nothing  may  be  wanting  to  the  true  Catholic  charac- 
ter  of  this  interesting  document,  another  obligation  is  im- 
posed of  building  in  the  Royal  Plain'  in  Hispaniola  a 
church  under  the  invocation  of  “St.  Mary  of  the  Concep- 
tion,” a mode  of  honoring  our  Blessed  Lady  which  sup- 
poses the  doctrine  of  her  Immaculate  Conception.  Then  a 
hospital  is  to  be  founded,  and  chairs  of  theology  established 
for  the  instruction  of  those  who  shall  devote  themselves 
to  the  conversion  of  the  Indians. 

Isabella,  during  this  interval  of  delay,  tried  to  induce 
Columbus  to  accept  a large  tract  in  Hispaniola  for  his  pri- 
vate property,  with  the  title  of  Duke  or  Marquis,  but  he 
resolutely  refused.  Perhaps  he  thought  it  inconsistent 
with  his  sublime  vocation  to  accept  a reward  which,  while  it 
injured  his  position,  might  also  tempt  him  in  his  old  age, 
under  the  specious  pretext  of  attending  to  the  interests  of 
his  children,  to  make  a home  for  himself  and  them,  and,  sink- 
ing into  dignified  ease,  to  give  up  the  further  prosecution 
of  his  grand,  but  self-sacrificing  and  eminently  “uncomfort- 
able,” designs.  It  seems  scarcely  likely  that  his  sole  mo- 
tive in  refusing  Isabella’s  generous  proposal  was  a pru- 
dent fear  of  increasing  his  unpopularity.  Nor,  on  the  other 
hand,  was  he  guilty  of  foolish  inconsistency  in  rejecting 
a new  source  of  revenue,  since  the  wealth  which  he  desired 
for  crusading  purposes  was  sure  to  come  sooner  or  later, 
he  thought,  from  the  “eighth”  guaranteed  to  him  in  the 
capitulation  drawn  up  at  Santa  Fe,  if  there  was  faith  in 
a royal  word  and  gold  in  the  Indies.  Unhappily,  it  was 
long  in  coming. 

Fresh  causes  of  delay  now  arose.  Ferdinand  was  much 
distressed  for  money,  but  Isabella  had  actually  set  aside 
certain  funds  for  the  new  expedition,  when,  in  October, 
1497,  Peter  Alonzo  Nino  returned  from  Hispaniola,  and  by 
his  foolish  boast  that  he  brought  much  gold  caused  the 
immediate  revocation  of  the  royal  grant,  for  it  was  sup- 
posed that  this  valuable  freight  would  more  than  suffice  to 
meet  the  demands  of  the  Admiral.  When  the  unfortunate 


> Vega  Real. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


137 


captain,  who  had  gone  to  visit  his  family  before  forwarding 
his  despatches,  came  to  confess  that  his  gold  was  in  the 
shape  of  three  hundred  Indian  prisoners  of  war,  to  be  sold, 
Isabella  and  Ferdinand,  for  different  reasons,  were  equally 
disgusted.  Although  the  letter  of  the  royal  instructions 
ordained  that  Indians  concerned  in  the  death  of  Span- 
iards should  be  enslaved,  yet  Isabella  was  shocked  at  the 
number. 

Arrangements  had  to  be  recommenced.  Orders  and  coun- 
ter-orders wasted  much  time  The  anxiety  of  Columbus 
increased  with  every  fresh  delay,  for  he  knew  by  sad  expe- 
rience how  much  the  colony  depended  upon  imported  food, 
and  how  scarcity  of  provisions  increased  the  diflSculty  of 
governing  selfish  and  discontented  and  seditious  men.  Yet 
even  his  sagacious  mind  could  not  easily  have  conjectured 
the  extent  of  the  evils  which  tried  to  the  utmost  all  the 
grand  qualities,  the  high  courage,  the  strong  endurance,  the 
vigilance,  the  practical  wisdom,  the  mingled  severity  and 
mercy  of  his  brother  Bartholomew,  the  good  Adelantado. 

The  more  the  Admiral  displayed  his  anxiety  to  hurry  for- 
ward the  preparations,  the  more  “his  cold-blooded  enemy 
Fonseca,”  who  was  now  Bishop  of  Badajos,  tried  to  interpose 
vexatious  obstacles.  In  his  despair,  when  volunteers  could 
not  be  found,  he  proposed  a measure  which,  though  it  met 
with  the  eager  approval  of  the  Sovereigns,  must  be  allowed 
to  have  been  even  in  that  dire  extremity  a grievous  error  of 
judgment.  This  was  to  commute  the  imprisonment  of  lesser 
criminals  into  a term  of  service  in  the  colony.  Alas ! there 
were  bad  men  enough,  and  “basely  bad,”  in  Hispaniola 
already,  without  turning  loose  into  the  island  men  convicted 
of  every  kind  of  villainy. 

Columbus,  who  to  the  end  could  never  fully  realize  the  deep 
vsdckedness  of  which  the  human  heart  is  capable,  no  doubt 
thought  that  this  plan  might  be  regarded  as  the  lesser  of 
two  evils,  inasmuch  as  to  send  no  ships  at  all  was  to  consign 
the  colony  to  certain  destruction,  while  to  send  out  men 
who  had  misdemeaned  themselves  at  home  was  to  give  them 
a chance  of  becoming  honesr  men,  a chance  which  many  of 


138 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


them,  under  the  combined  inducement  of  gratitude  and 
interest,  might  be  glad  to  seize.  It  was  a melancholy  mis- 
take, and  one  which  brought  its  own  sad  punishment. 

By  the  most  strenuous  exertions,  Columbus  succeeded  at 
last  in  fitting  out  two  caravels  early  in  1498;  but  to  accom- 
plish this  it  was  necessary  for  him.  Viceroy  as  he  was,  to 
take  much  of  the  actual  drudgery  of  the  work  upon  himself, 
to  go  round  to  the  storehouses  and  deal  personally  with  the 
tradesmen.  He  speaks  feelingly,  in  a letter  written  long 
afterward,  of  his  laborious  quest  of  provisions  on  this  occa- 
sion. The  two  vessels  arrived  in  Hispaniola  at  the  begin- 
ning of  February,  bearing  to  Bartholomew  the  royal  con- 
firmation of  his  appointment,  which  gave  strength  to  his 
government  at  such  a critical  juncture,  that  perhaps  a few 
weeks  of  additional  delay  would  have  made  reconstruction 
quite  impossible.' 


> For  the  larger  portion  of  chapters  V.  and  VI.,  as  also  much  of  the  preceding  one,  we  take 
pleasure  m acknowledging  our  great  indebtedness  to  the  concise  and  very  accurate  “Life  of 
Columbus”  by  Father  A.  G.  Knight,  S.  J.,  of  England. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


mE  THIRD  AND  FOURTH  VOYAGES  TO  AMERICA. 

Colu<^>hus  punishing  insolence — Crossing  the  stormy  ocean 
in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trinity — Touches  the  main- 
land of  America  — At  Hispaniola  again  — Quelling 
troubles — The  din  of  calumny — Bobadilla  and  his 
mission — Columbus  sent  home  in  chains — Great  schemes 
— A fourth  voyage  planned — Going  to  the  relief  of  a 
fort — Columbus  insulted  again  at  Hispaniola — Awful 
fate  of  a fleet  containing  his  enemies — Search  for  an 
imaginary  strait — Sailing  along  the  coast  of  Central 
America — Battle  with  a waterspout — A vision — Aground 
on  Jamaica — Mendez  and  his  adventures — Mutiny  of 
Porras — The  threatened  famine — An  historical  eclipse 
of  the  moon — A singular  visit — A flerce  conflict — Relief 
comes — Columbus  reaches  Spain. 

By  the  assiduous  and  watchful  toil  of  the  venerable  Ad- 
miral, six  more  caravels  were  ready  at  the  end  of  May,  1498. 
He  was  just  about  to  sail.  The  malignity  of  Bishop  Fonseca 
and  the  insolence  of  his  underlings,  however,  pursued  the 
Discoverer  of  America  even  to  the  water’s  edge.  Of  these 
annoying  officials,  the  most  bold  and  noisy  was  one  Breviesca, 
treasurer  to  Fonseca,  and  a converted  Jew.  He  grossly  in- 
sulted Columbus  to  his  very  face.  The  great  old  man,  in 
the  hurry  and  indignation  of  the  moment,  forgot  his  usual 
self-command,  and,  raising  his  hand,  he  struck  the  des- 
picable minion  to  the  earth. 

It  may  have  been  another  error  of  judgment,  for  the 
wretched  Breviesca  had  an  official  character,  and  Bishop 
Fonseca  would  be  sure  to  take  the  chastisement  as  an  insult 
to  himself.  But  even  if  the  infliction  of  this  well-merited 
139 


140 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


punishment  was  a grave  fanlt  in  diplomacy,  the  moral 
offense  was  surely  a very  small  one ; and,  perhaps,  to 
Columbus  it  seemed  more  important  to  vindicate  his  honor 
and  assert  his  power  before  his  own  retainers,  than  to  con- 
sider very  nicely  the  effect  of  his  act  upon  one  who  could 
scarcely  become  more  insolent  and  bitterly  hostile  than  he 
was.  Certainly,  Fonseca  was  not  the  personage  to  let  slip 
such  a golden  opportunity,  and  Las  Casas  attributes  the 
decline  of  the  Admiral’s  influence  at  Court  to  this  incident, 
which  was  represented  in  the  darkest  colors  when  he  was  no 
longer  present  to  defend  himself. 

Nor,  indeed,  did  Columbus  himself  fail  to  foresee  the  in- 
vidious use  that  would  be  made  of  it.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  make,  with  equal  brevity,  a more  direct  and  affecting  ap- 
peal than  that  contained  in  one  of  his  letters,  wherein  he 
alludes  to  this  affair.  He  entreats  the  Sovereigns  not  to  let 
it  be  wrested  to  his  injury  in  their  opinion;  but  to  remember, 
when  anything  should  be  said  to  his  disparagement,  that 
he  was  ‘•‘•absent.,  envied,  and  a str anger. 

The  much-enduring  Admiral  set  sail  from  the  port  of  San 
Lucar  on  the  30th  of  May,  with  six  vessels,  and  two  hun- 
dred men,  in  addition  to  the  sailors  that  were  necessary.  It 
was  no  longer  islands  that  he  sought.  He  wished  to  make 
some  great  discovery,  and  started  on  his  third  voyage  by 
placing  it  under  the  special  protection  of  the  Most  Holy 
Trinity,  whose  sacred  name  he  promised  to  give  the  first 
land  he  would  discover. 

In  the  course  of  this  voyage  he  was  obliged  to  avoid  a 
French  squadron,  as  France  and  Spain  were  then  at  war. 
From  the  Canary  Islands  Columbus  dispatched  three  of  his 
ships  directly  to  Hispaniola,  declaring  in  his  instructions  to 
their  commanders,  that  he  himself  was  going  to  the  Cape 
Verde  Islands,  and  thence,  “in  the  name  of  the  Holy  Trin- 
ity,” intended  to  navigate  to  the  South  of  those  islands,  until 
he  should  arrive  under  the  equinoctial  line,  in  the  hope  of 
being  “guided  by  God  to  discover  something  which  may 
be  to  His  service,  and  to  that  of  our  Lords,  the  King  and 
Queen,  and  to  the  honor  of  Christendom.”  “I  believe,”  he 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB  US. 


141 


adds,  “that  no  one  has  ever  traversed  this  way,  and  that  this 
sea  is  nearly  unknown.” 

With  one  ship  and  two  caravels,  the  great  Admiral  made 
for  the  Cape  Verde  Islands — “a  false  name,”  he  remarks, 
as  nothing  was  to  be  seen  there  of  a green  color.  He 
reached  these  islands  towards  the  end  of  June,  and  left 
them  on  the  4th  of  July.  All  this  time  he  was  surrounded 
by  such  a dense  fog  that  he  writes,  “It  might  have  been 
cut  with  a knife.” 

The  vessels  had  pushed  along  many  leagues,  when  sud- 
denly the  vsdnds  abated  and  the  heat  became  intolerable. 
Xobody  dared  to  go  below  deck  to  look  after  the  wine, 
w’ater  and  provisions.  This  lasted  eight  days.  The  first 
day  was  clear,  and  had  the  others  been  like  it,  Columbus 
states  that  not  a man  w'ould  have  been  left  alive.  They 
w’ould  have  been  all  burnt  up. 

The  Admiral,  in  his  distress,  addressed  himself  to  Heaven, 
and,  at  last,  a favorable  breeze  sprang  up,  enabling  him  to 
pursue  a more  westerly  course.  Soon  but  a single  barrel  of 
water  remained  in  each  of  the  vessels.  The  distress  of  the 
crews  was  frightful.  But,  “as  God  had  always  been  accus- 
tomed to  show  mercy  to  him” — to  use  the  Admiral’s  own 
w’ords — a mariner  named  Alonzo  Perez  happened  to  go 
aloft  upon  the  maintop  of  the  Admiral’s  ship,  and  suddenly 
saw  towards  the  southwest,  about  fifteen  leagues  off,  three 
summits  of  mountains,  which  appeared  united  at  the  base. 
It  was  the  land  desired!  Wonderful  it  was,  indeed,  for 
it  seemed  at  that  distance  to  exhibit  the  mysterious  emblem 
of  the  Trinity,  whose  name  Columbus  had  vow^ed  to  bestow 
on  it.  It  was  an  island,  and  he  called  it  Trinidad.'  The 
sailors  sang  the  SaJre  Regina  and  the  Are  Maris  Stella, 
and  w'hen  the  Admiral  landed,  he  planted,  as  was  his  usual 
custom,  a large  cross  on  the  shore. 

On  the  following  day  he  continued  in  a westerly  direc- 


* The  old  chroniclers  and  historsns  are  etmck  with  astonishment  at  this  incident.  •'  Miifloz," 
says  Count  de  Lorenes.  *'  who  had  nnder  his  eye  the  narrations  and  the  documents,  informs  ns 
that  Columbus  attributed  this  discoTery  to  a signal  favor  from  God.”  Trinidad  is  the  Spanish 
for  Trinity.  This  island  is  situated  outside  the  delta  of  the  great  river  Orinoco,  having  the  Gull 
of  Paria  on  the  west. 


142 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


tion,  in  search  of  a port  where  he  might  take  in  water 
and  refit  his  ships.  The  extreme  heat  had  shrunk  the 
timber,  and  caulking  was  sadly  needed.  The  port  he  did 
not  find,  but  came  to  deep  soundings  somewhere  near  Point 
Alcatraz.  Here  he  took  in  fresh  water.  This  was  on 
Wednesday,  the  1st  of  August,  1498.  From  the  point 
where  he  now  was,  the  low  lands  of  the  Orinoco’  must 
have  been  visible,  and  Columbus  for  the  first  time  beheld 
the  mainland  of  America. 

He  pushed  on  towards  the  Gulf  of  Paria.  It  was  just 
after  the  rainy  season,  and  the  great  rivers  which  flow  into 
the  Gulf  were  causing  its  waters  to  rush  with  impetuosity 
out  of  the  two  openings  which  lead  into  the  wide  ocean. 
The  fierce  struggle  between  the  fresh  water  and  the  salt 
water  produced  a high  ridge  of  waters,  on  the  top  of  which 
the  Admiral  was  borne  into  the  Gull  at  such  risk,  that, 
writing  afterwards  of  this  event  to  the  Spanish  Court,  he 
says:  “Even  to-day  I shudder  lost  the  waters  should  have 
upset  the  vessel  when  they  came  under  its  bows.” 

From  the  size  of  the  Orinoco,  Columbus  felt  sure  that  he 
had  discovered  a continent.  He  called  it  Tierra  de  Gracia, 
or  the  Land  of  Grace.  Mass  was  celebrated,  and  possession 
taken  of  the  newly-discovered  territory  in  due  form.  A large 
cross  was  then  raised  on  the  most  prominent  part  of  the 
beach,  and  the  holy  name  of  the  Redeemer  resounded  for 
\)aQjirst  time  on  the  wild,  unknown  shores  of  South  America. 

Space  will  not  permit  us  to  follow  Columbus  at  every 
point  in  this  most  memorable  voyage.  In  the  midst  of 
trials,  sickness,  and  adventures,  the  great  man  added  a con- 
tinent to  the  world’s  map  ; nor  was  the  map  more  enlarged 
than  truth,  science  and  commerce.’ 


> Point  Alcatraz  is  situated  at  the  S.  E.  extremity  of  Trinidad. 

^ The  Orinoco  is  an  immense  river  which  discharges  itself  by  seven  great  mouths  and  forty 
smaller  ones.  Its  delta  covers  an  extent  of  about  fifty  leagues,  divided  and  sub-divided  into 
islands  of  ver^ms  sizes. 

5 “ This  voyage  (the  third),  undertaken  in  the  name  of  the  Most  Holy  Trinity,”  writes  Count 
de  Lorgues,  “ was  no  less  important  than  his  first  one.  He  made  the  peaceable  conquest  of  three 
grand  truths,  which  will  ever  be  of  utility  to  science:  1.  The  existence  of  a new  continent;  2.  The 
equatorial  swelling ; 3.  The  great  oceanic  current.  The  least  of  these  three  discoveries  would 
have  secured  immortality  for  the  discoverer.  . , . Such  was  the  importance  of  this  third  voyage 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


143 


On  the  30th  of  August  the  vessels  reached  Hispaniola. 
The  Admiral’s  health  was  shattered,  but  he  found  a firm  and 
affectionate  friend  in  his  brother,  Don  Bartholomew,  who 
related  to  him  the  various  calamities  that  bad  befallen  the 
unhappy  island  since  his  departure.  It  was  one  long  story 
of  the  excesses  and  insubordination  of  the  Spaniards. 
Their  cruelties  to  the  Indians  are  too  painful  and  far  too 
tedious  a tale  to  recount  here.  It  must  suffice  to  say  that, 
on  his  recovery,  Columbus  found  his  genius  heavily  tasked 
in  the  labor  of  restoring  some  degree  of  order  and  good 
feeling. 

An  account  of  the  disturbances,  however,  had  already 
gone  to  Spain,  and  were  charged  to  the  account  of  the  ven- 
erable man  whose  sole  anxiety  had  been  to  heal  them. 
Columbus  wrote  to  the  Court,  entreating  that  a magistrate, 
empowered  by  royal  authority,  might  be  sent  out  to  rule 
the  lawless  men  who  created  such  endless  dissatisfaction. 
Hitherto  the  Spanish  sovereigns  had,  upon  the  whole,  be- 
haved pretty  well  to  Columbus.  But  he  had  bitter  enemies 
at  Court.  People  w'ere  forever  suggesting  to  the  monarchs 
that  this  foreigner  was  doing  wrong.  The  Admiral’s  son,  Fer- 
dinand, gives  a vivid  picture  of  some  of  the  complaints 
preferred  against  his  father.  “When  I was  at  Granada,” 
he  Avrites,  “at the  time  the  Most  Serene  Prince  Don  Michael 
died,  more  than  fifty  of  them — Spaniards  AA’ho  had  returned 
from  the  Indies — as  men  without  shame,  bought  a great 
quantity  of  grapes,  and  sat  themselves  down  in  the  court  of 
the  Alhambra,  uttering  loud  cries,  saying  that  their  High- 
nesses and  the  Admiral  made  them  live  in  this  poor  fash- 
ion, on  account  of  the  bad  pay  they  received — with  many 
other  dishonest  and  unseemly  things,  which  they  kept  repeat- 
ing. Such  was  their  effrontery  that  when  the  Catholic 
King  came  forth  they  all  surrounded  him,  and  got  him  into 
the  midst  of  them,  saying  ‘ Pay  ! pay !’  and  if  by  chance  I 

that  there  remained  no  longer  any  grand  discovery  to  he  made.  The  messenger  of  the  Cross  left 
bat  few  for  future  generations.  Thanks  to  him,  the  whole  world  was  thenceforth  open  to  the 
investigations  of  man.  For  three  centuries  no  man  has  discovered  in  the  laws  of  nature  anything 
broader,  more  profound,  or  more  fundamental  for  science.  Three  centuries  have  passed  away, 
and  no  man  has  derived  from  any  voyage  so  many  intellectual  acquisitions." 


144 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


and  my  brother — who  were  pages  to  the  Most  Serene  Queen 
— happened  to  pass  where  they  were,  they  shouted  to  the 
very  heavens,  saying ; ‘ Look  at  the  sons  of  the  Admiral  of 
Mosquito  Land.,  of  that  man  who  has  discovered  the  lands 
of  deceit  and  disappointment,  a place  of  sepulchre  and 
wretchedness  to  Spanish  hidalgos,'  adding  many  other  in- 
sulting expressions,  on  which  account  we  excused  ourselves 
from  passing  by  them.” 

Thus  clamor  and  calumny  kept  up  an  unceasing  din  against 
the  great  Admiral  at  the  Spanish  Court. ' 

Ferdinand  and  Isabella  chose  Francis  Bobadilla  for  the 
investigation  of  alfairs  in  the  New  World.  They  author- 
ized him  “ to  ascertain  what  persons  have  raised  themselves 
against  justice  in  the  island  of  Hispaniola,  and  to  proceed 
against  them  according  to  law.”  Among  other  documents 
the  following  remarkable  letter  to  Columbus  was  given  him: 

“Don  Christopher  Columbus,  our  Admiral  of  the  Ocean: 
We  have  commanded  the  Comendador  Francis  de  Bobadilla, 
the  bearer  of  this,  that  he  speak  to  you  on  our  part  some 
things  which  he  will  tell  you.  We  pray  you  to  give  him 
faith  and  credence,  and  act  accordingly. 

I,  THE  KING,  T,  THE  QUEEN. 


By  their  command. 


Michael  Pekez  de  Almazan.” 


On  the  23rd  of  August,  in  the  year  1500,  Bobadilla  made 
his  appearance  at  San  Domingo,  Hispaniola.  The  Admiral 
was  at  Fort  Conception.  Bobadilla  immediately  summoned 
the  Discoverer  of  America  to  appear  before  him,  sending 


* While  Columbus  was  involved  in  a series  of  difficulties  in  Hispaniola  his  enemies  were  nut  too 
successful  in  undermining  his  reputation  at  the  Court  of  Spain.  Bishop  Fonseca,  and  others 
who  had  frequent  access  to  the  Sovereigns,  were  enabled  to  place  everything  urged  against  him 
in  the  strongest  light,  while  they  destroyed  the  force  of  his  vindications.  Every  vessel  from  the 
new  world  came  freighted  with  complaints  and  calumnies;  it  was  even  alleged  that  Columbus  in- 
tended to  cast  off  allegiance  to  Spain,  and  either  make  himself  sovereign  of  the  countries  he  had 
discovered,  or  yield  them  into  the  hands  of  some  other  power,  a slander  which  however  extrava- 
gant was  calculated  to  startle  the  jealous  mind  of  Ferdinand.  . . . The  incessant  repetition 
of  falsehood  will  gradually  wear  its  way  into  the  most  candid  mind.  Isabella  herself  began 
at  length  to  doubt.  . , . Isabella  doubted,  but  the  jealous  mind  of  Ferdinand  felt  convinced 
'-Irving. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


145 


him  the  royal  letter.  Columbus  without  delay  obeyed  the 
summons  of  this  shallow  and  insolent  man;  but  scarcely 
had  he  appeared  before  the  gates  of  San  Domingo,  when  lie 
was  rudely  seized,  put  in  irons,  and  confined  in  the  fortress. 
His  brothers  were  similarly  treated.  Accusations  fell 
thickly  on  the  venerable  head  of  the  Admiral.  “The  stones 
rose  up  against  him  and  his  brothers,”  says  the  historian 
Herrera. 

With  a stupid  brutality,  which  we  may  charitably  sup- 
pose he  took  for  vigor,  Bobadilla  decided  to  ship  Columbus 
and  his  brothers  in  chains  to  Spain. 

The  prisoners  were  given  in  charge  of  Alonzo  de  Villejo, 
an  officer  in  the  employ  of  Bishop  Fonseca,  who  unhappily 
is  thought  to  have  been  the  secret  instigator  of  all  those  vio- 
lent proceedings.  Villejo,  however,  was  a man  of  honorable 
character  and  generous  feelings,  and  showed  himself  supe- 
rior to  the  low  malignity  of  his  patron.  When  he  arrived 
with  a guard  to  conduct  the  Admiral  from  the  prison  to  the 
ship,  he  found  him  in  chains,  in  a state  of  deep  despondency, 
fearing  that  he  should  be  sacrificed  without  a hearing,  and 
that  his  name  would  go  down  to  posterity  suUied  with 
imputed  crimes. 

Seeing  the  officer  enter  with  the  guard,  Columbus  thought 
it  was  to  conduct  him  to  the  scaffold.  “Villejo,”  said  he, 
mournfully,  “whither  are  you  taking  me?”  “To  the  ship, 
your  Excellency,  to  embark,”  replied  the  other.  “To 
embark!”  echoed  the  Admiral.  “ Villejo,  do  you  speak  the 
truth?”  “By  the  life  of  your  Excellency,”  replied  the  hon- 
est officer,  “it  is  true!”  With  these  words  the  Admiral 
was  comforted,  and  felt  as  one  restored  from  death  to  life. 
The  caravels  set  sail  early  in  October,  bearing  off  Columbus, 
shackled  like  the  vilest  of  culprits,  amidst  the  scoffs  and 
shouts  of  a miscreant  rabble,  who  took  a brutal  joy  in  heap- 
ing insults  on  his  vene-  able  head,  and  sent  curses  after  him 
from  the  island  he  had  so  recently  added  to  the  civilized 
world.  Fortunately,  the  voyage  was  favorable  and  of  mod- 
erate duration,  and  was  rendered  less  irksome  to  Columbus 
by  the  conduct  of  those  to  whom  he  was  given  in  custody. 


146 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


The  worthy  Villejo,  as  well  as  Andrew  Martin,  the  master 
of  the  caravel,  always  treated  him  with  profound  respect 
and  assiduous  attention.  They  would  have  taken  off  his 
irons,  but  to  this  he  would  not  consent.  “No,”  said  he, 
with  Christian  dignity,  “their  Majesties  commanded  me  by 
letter  to  submit  to  whatever  Bobadilla  should  order  in  their 
name;  by  their  authority  he  has  put  upon  me  these  chains;  I 
will  wear  them  until  they  shall  order  them  to  be  taken  off, 
and  I will  afterwards  preserve  them  as  relics  and  memorials 
of  the  reward  of  my  services.” 

“He  did  so,”  adds  his  son  Ferdinand,  in  his  History;  “I 
saw  them  always  hanging  in  his  cabinet,  and  he  requested 
that  when  he  died  they  might  be  buried  with  him!  ” 

How  strange ! Columbus  gave  Spain  a new  world  ; and,  in 
return,  Spain  loaded  him  with  fetters.  Soon,  however,  there 
was  a reaction.  The  nation  became  sensible  of  its  ingrati- 
tude to  its  great  benefactor.  The  nobility  were  shocked 
at  this  insult  to  one  of  their  own  order  ; and  no  sooner  had 
Ferdinand  and  Isabella  learned  from  Columbus  of  his 
arrival,  and  of  his  disgrace,  than  they  issued  immediate 
orders  for  his  liberation,  and  summoned  him  to  the  Court 
at  Granada,  forwarding  money  to  enable  him  to  proceed 
therein  a style  befit dng  his  rank.  He  was  received  with  all 
possible  marks  of  distinction.  The  Sovereigns  repudiated 
Bobadilla’ s arbitrary  proceedings,  and  promised  the  Admiral 
compensation  and  satisfaction.  To  signify  their  entire  dis- 
approval of  the  way  in  which  Bobadilla  had  acted  under 
their  commission,  they  pointedly  refused  to  inquire  into  the 
charges  against  Columbus,  and  dismissed  them  as  not 
worthy  of  investigation.'  ^ 

The  aged  discoverer  of  America  now  found  the  rest  for 
which  he  had  so  long  sighed.  That  third  voyage,  which 
had  seemingly  terminated  so  disastrously,  had  really  more 
than  answered  all  his  prayers.  He  had  sailed  in  search  of 
Asia,  and  had  found  America.  To  him  who  had  been  chosen 
to  discover  the  first  land  in  the  West  had  been  granted  also 


1 An  officer  named  Don  Nicholas  de  Ovando  was  also  sent  t«  supersede  Bobadilla  in  Hi»- 
paniola. 


CEBISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


147 


the  first  sight  of  the  great  continent,  though  this  was  in 
1408,  and  already  in  1495  the  royal  sanction  had  been  given 
to  private  adventure.  It  is  strange  indeed,  that  in  those 
three  years  no  bold  mariner  was  able  to  wrest  from  Colum- 
bus that  secondary  glory. 

The  Admiral  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  great  results 
which  he  had  achieved,  and  his  active  and  vigorous  mind, 
no  longer  occupied  with  ten  thousand  petty  details  of 
anxious  government,  reverted  at  once  to  the  master- thought 
which  gave  epic  unity  to  his  entire  career.  In  deep  medita- 
tion in  the  Franciscan  convents  at  Granada  and  Zubia,  he 
traced  the  connection,  to  him  so  natural  and  so  intimate, 
between  the  discovery  of  new  nations  and  the  re-conquest 
of  Jerusalem,  He  had  strongly  grasped  the  fundamental 
truth  that  the  actions  of  men  have  their  meaning  and  value 
from  reference  to  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  only  thing 
really  worthy  of  Christian  ambition  was  to  spread  the  king- 
dom of  Christ.  Dynastic  wars  were  not  worth  one  thought; 
but  when  it  was  proposed  to  rescue  the  holy  places  from 
the  infidel  Turk,  a Christian,  Columbus  supposed,  might 
well  be  glad  to  spend  money  and  labor  and  life  itself.  He 
was  filled  with  zeal.  He  saw  in  his  own  name,  the  “ Christ- 
bearer,”  a symbol  of  his  work.  Whether  he  strove  to 
extend  the  boundaries  of  the  Church,  or  to  restore  to  the 
Church  her  former  possessions;  whether  he  labored  to  con- 
vert poor  ignorant  pagans  to  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  or  to 
wrest  from  obstinate  enemies  the  objects  of  Christian  reve- 
rence, he  was  always  thinking  how  to  advance  the  cause 
of  Him  whom  in  more  than  name  he  carried. 

That  this  is  no  fancy  of  his  Catholic  admirers,  the  Ad- 
miral’s own  writings  abundantly  prove.  The  wealth  of  the 
Indies — to  follow  his  train  of  thought — would  insure  the 
recovery  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre;  the  recovery  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre  would  increase  charity,  and  send  evangelists  to 
the  Indies.  Distant  nations  must  be  added  to  the  fold,  and 
Christians  must  be  free  once  more  to  worship  Christ  at 
Bethlehem  and  Calvary.  The  grand  idea  which  filled  the 
mind  and  claimed  the  whole  soul  of  Columbus  was  to  make 


148 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


a highway  round  the  earth,  and  bring  the  nations  in  willing 
homage  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ,  reigning  once  more  in 
Jerusalem  of  the  Christians. 

He  could  not  yet  march  against  the  infidel  Turk,  but  he 
could  continue  his  progress  round  the  world;  and  thus  very 
shortly  we  find  him  again,  before  he  had  recruited  his 
strength,  making  application  to  the  Sovereigns  to  be  sent  on 
a fresh  expedition.  The  indomitable  old  man  would  rather 
die  in  harness  than  lead  an  idle  life.  Protestant  historians 
show  their  inability  to  appreciate  that  profoundly  religious 
character  which  thoy  universally  ascribe  to  Columbus,  when 
they  can  only  see  in  this  desire  of  a fourth  voyage  the  love 
of  glory  and  the  fear  of  being  eclipsed  by  rival  navigators. 
He  himself  solemnly  aboerts  that  these  were  not  his  motives. 

In  the  course  of  his  meditations,  a great  idea  fiashed  upon 
the  mind  of  Columbus.  His  conclusions,  it  may  be  said, 
were  sometimes  more  correct  than  his  premises.  The  great 
current  setting  westward  from  the  Grulf  of  Paria  must  find 
an  outlet  somewhere,  he  supposed,  to  the  west,  and  Irving 
asserts  that  he  fixed  in  his  mind  the  region  of  the  Isthmus 
y Darien  for  the  probable  locality.  He  was  mistaken,  as 
it  happened,  but  the  guess  ran  strangely  near  the  truth. 
It  was  to  find  this  strait,  and,  having  passed  through  it, 
to  continue  his  vovage  around  the  world.,  that  he  now  pro- 
posed to  resume  the  thread  of  his  discoveries.  The  design 
found  much  favor  with  Ferdinand,  for  he  envied  Portugal 
her  lucrative  Asiatic  expeditions. 

Columbus,  however,  thoroughly  distrusted  Ferdinand. 
He  felt  that,  in  the  event  of  Isabella’s  death,  all  his  past 
services  would  be  forgotten,  and  all  solemn  conventions 
would  be  disregarded,  as  far,  at  least,  as  public  opinion  might 
permit : and  that  if,  as  was  not  improbable,  he  himself 
should  lose  his  life  on  this  voyage,  his  children,  with  a. 
crowd  of  loud  and  bitter  enemies  of  their  father  round  them, 
would  be  defrauded  of  their  rights,  and  that  in  consequence 
his  grand  designs  for  the  service  of  the  Church  would  perish 
with  himself.  He  took  the  mos"'  extraordinary  precautions. 
At  this  time  he  was  in  actual  p 'verty,  living  upon  his 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


14^ 


^‘expectations”  of  justice,  and  his  claims  of  unpaid  revenue. 
He  wrote  an  anxious  letter  to  the  Sovereigns,  recommending 
to  them  his  children  and  his  brothers  aitei'.’  his  death. 

His  evident  solicitude  gave  real  pain  to  Isabella,  and  once 
more  all  his  rights  were  solemnly  guaranteed  by  a joint 
letter  of  the  Sovereigns.  But  even  this  could  not  calm  his 
fears.  Isabella’s  protestations  were  superfluous,  Ferdinand’s 
worthless.  Columbus  consigned  a copy  of  all  the  rights 
conceded  to  himself  and  his  heirs  to  the  care  of  the  Genoese 
Ambassador,  and  asked  him  to  let  his  eldeot  son,  Don  James, 
know  where  it  was  to  be  found.  Another  copy  he  left  with 
the  Franciscans,  and  another  with  the  monks  of  St.  Jerome. 
He  drew  up,  moreover,  written  instructions  to  help  James 
in  making  good  his  claims,  which  were  sure  to  be  contested. 
He  also  wrote  to  the  Holy  Father  at  this  time,  expressing 
his  regret  at  having  been  unable  to  relate  to  him  with  his 
own  lips  the  story  of  the  enterprise,  originally  undertaken 
and  consistently  prosecuted  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
diffusion  of  the  faith.  He  speaks,  of  course,  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  and  is  sure  that  Satan  is  to  blame  for  the  thwart- 
ing of  his  pious  purpose,  which  will  require  money  and 
power,  and  that  now  he  is  possessed  of  neither. 

He  prayed  that  his  son  Ferdinand  might  be  permitted  to 
accompany  him  on  the  expedition,  and  Isabella  gave  the  boy  a 
naval  commission.  Don  Bartholomew  was  at  first  disposed 
to  hold  back.  Good  Christian  though  he  was,  he  thought 
that  the  ill-usage  which  they  had  experienced  went  beyond 
human  endurance,  and  he  was  in  no  mood  to  continue  to 
serve  ungrateful  Spain.  But  the  sight  of  his  noble  brother, 
still  serene  and  brave,  untamed  by  disappointment,  uncon- 
quered by  opposition,  faithful  to  the  end,  made  him 
ashamed  of  his  weakness.  He  would  not  let  the  Admiral  go 
alone,  just  when  most  he  needed  the  help  of  a strong  ann 
and  a loving  heart.  Don  James  obeyed  another  vocation. 
He  had  led  in  all  the  turmoil  of  Hispaniola  a life  worthy  of 
^he  most  sacred  calling,  and  he  now  recognized  the  will  of 
God,  and  began  his  studies  for  the  priesthood. 

In  his  fourth  voyage,  Columbus,  as  already  stated,  pro 


150 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


posed  to  circumnavigate  the  globe.* *  He  pressed  the  Sover- 
eigns ’ to  provide  him  with  four  vessels  and  provisions  for 
two  years.  On  the  9th  of  May,  1502,  the  preparations  were  com- 
plete, and  he  set  sail  from  Cadiz,  having  wdtn  him  his  brother, 
Don  Bartholomew,  and  his  son  Ferdinand.  As  an  instance 
of  the  great  old’  Admiral’s  chivalrous  love  of  adventure, 
it  may  be  mentioned  that  upon  hearing  that  the  Portuguese 
fortress  of  Arzilla — on  the  African  coast-^was  besieged  by 
the  Moors,  he  at  once  proceeded  to  its  relief.  When  he 
reached  it,  however,  the  siege  was  raised. 

Turning  the  prows  of  his  ships  towards  the  New  World, 
he  met  with  a prosperous  voyage  until  near  Hispaniola.  He 
arrived  off  the  harbor  of  San  Domingo  at  an  unfavorable 
moment.  The  place  was  filled  with  the  most  virulent  of 
his  enemies.  In  the  harbor  lay  the  fleet  which  had  brought 
out  Ovando.  It  was  ready  to  put  to  sea.  The  experienced 
eye  of  Columbus  beheld  in  the  distance  an  approaching 
hurricane.  He  was  anxious  to  shelter  his  own  squadron  in 
the  harbor,  and  sent  a message,  asking  permission  to  do 
so,  and  advising  Ovando  of  the  coming  storm,  and  the 
danger  of  letting  the  fleet  sail  for  Spain. 

Ovando  sternly  forbade  the  Admiral  to  enter  the  harbor 
on  any  account;  and  he  retired  from  the  river  indignant  at 
being  refused  shelter  in  the  very  island  which  he  had  discov- 


> Columbus  conceived  an  opinion  that  beyond  the  continent  of  America  there  was  a sea  which 
extended  to  the  East  Indies,  and  hoped  to  And  some  strait  or  narrow  neck  of  land,  by  which  a 
communication  might  be  opened  with  it  and  the  part  of  the  ocean  already  known.  By  a very 
fortunate  conjecture,  he  supposed  this  strait  or  isthmus  to  be  itnated  near  the  Gulf  of  Darien,— 
Robtrtson. 

* Just  before  setting  out  on  his  fourth  voyage,  Columbus  wrete  a strong  letter  to  Ferdinend, 
reproaching  the  King  with  the  treatment  which  he  had  received,  and  with  the  want  of  confidence 
manifested  towards  him  now.  Ferdinand,  who  well  knew  the  use  of  words,  sent  a soothing 
reply. 

‘ You  ought  to  be  convinced,”  \vrote  the  Spanish  King,  “ of  our  displeasure  at  your  captivity, 
for  we  lost  not  a moment  in  setting  you  free.  Your  innocence  is  well'knovra.  Yon  are  aware  of 
the  consideration  and  friendship  with  which  we  have  treated  you.  The  favors  which  you  hav« 
received  from  us  shall  not  be  the  last  that  you  will  receive.  We  assure  to  you  your  privileges, 
and  are  desirous  that  you  and  your  children  may  enjoy  them.  We  offer  to  confirm  them  to  yoa 
again,  and  to  put  your  eldest  son  in  possession  of  all  your  offices,  whenever  you  wish.  . . . We 
beg  you  to  set  out  as  soon  as  possible." 

• ‘‘Age.’  writes  Irring.  ” was  rapidly  making  its  advances  upon  Columbns,  when  he  undertook 
nis  fourth  voyage  of  discovery.  He  was  now  about  sixty-six  years  of  age.  His  constitution, 
originally  vigorous  in  the  extreme,  had  been  impaired  by  hardships  in  every  ‘'lime,  and  by  die 
•Mntal  sufferings  he  had  undergone.” 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB  US. 


151 


ered.  Feeling  confident,  however,  that  a terrible  storm  was  at 
hand,  he  kept  close  to  the  shore,  thinking  to  shelter  himself 
in  some  wild  bay  or  river. 

But  scarcely  a ripple  passed  over  the  sea,  scarcely  a breath 
stirred  the  luxuriant  foliage  on  the  shore.  Ovando,  filled 
with  haughty  ignorance,  scorned  the  Admiral’s  suggestion  in 
regard  to  delaying  the  departure  of  the  ships  for  Spain. 
This  fieet  was  the  richest  in  cargo  that  had  ever  left  the 
islands.  It  contained  all  the  gold  which  had  been  wrung 
out  of  the  natives  by  Bobadilla’s  harsh  measures.  Of  one 
nugget,  especially,  the  old  chroniclers  speak  in  the  most 
glowing  terms.  According  to  them,  it  was  the  largest  piece 
of  virgin  gold  ever  discovered.  It  was  accidentally  found 
by  an  Indian  woman  at  ohe  mines,  while  carelessly  moving 
her  rake  to  and  fro  in  the  water  one  day  daring  dinner-time. 
Its  value  was  estimated  at  1,350,000  maravedis  ; ‘ and  in  the 
festivities  which  took  piace  on  tiic  occasion  it  was  used  as  a 
dish  for  a roast  pig,  the  miners  saying  that  no  King  of  Cas- 
tile had  ever  feasted  from  a dish  oi  such  value.  We  do  not 
find  that  the  poor  Indian  woman  had  any  part  in  the  good 
fortune.  Indeed,  as  Las  Casas  observes,  she  was  happy  if 
she  had  even  any  portion  of  the  meat,  not  to  speak  of  the 
dish.  Bobadilla,  though  a scoundrel,  was  not  a blockhead. 
He  purchased  the  nugget  for  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and 
carefully  shipped  it  with  other  treasures  valuable  enough  to 
go  a long  way  towards  compensating  the  Spanish  Sovereigns 
for  all  their  expenditure  on  the  new  Colony — if  the  fleet 
could  only  reach  Spain  in  safety. 

But,  on  the  second  day  after  its  departure,  the  prediction 
of  Columbus  became  terribly  verified.  A tornado  of  unex- 
ampled fury  swept  the  seas.  Those  on  shore  couid  judge  of 
che  fate  that  was  likely  to  befall  the  doomed  squadron, " as 
many  of  the  buildings  and  trees  of  the  island  were  leveled 
with  the  ground  by  the  cutting  force  of  the  wild  tempest. 
Of  all  the  ships,  only  one — and  that  the  frailest  of  the  fleet 
- -ever  reached  the  shores  of  sunny  Spain.  It  was  the  one 


‘ About  $2,000.  ’ It  consisted  of  eighteen  ships. 


152 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


that  carried  the  Admiral’s  property.'  Bobadilla  and  his  ill- 
gotten  gold  perished  in  the  mighty  deep;  and  it  would  not 
bo  safe  to  think  that  the  famous  nugget  went  far  to  plead 
his  cause  before  the  judgment-seat  of  God. 

Columbus  and  his  four  little  vessels  braved  the  furious 
tempest  on  the  coast  of  Hispaniola;  and,  though  three  of 
them  had  been  severely  strained,  the  Admiral’s  own  ship 
received  no  damage  of  any  kind.  He  succeeded  in  refitting, 
and  set  sail  for  Jamaica  on  the  14th  of  July.  He  passed 
that  island,  meeting  with  light  winds  and  contrary  currents. 

For  about  nine  weeks  the  Admiral  made  so  little  progress 
that  his  crews  began  to  clamor  for  the  abandonment  of  the 
expedition.  The  ships  were  leaky  and  worm-eaten.  Pro- 
visions were  running  short.  The  seamen  had  seen  their 
commander  thrust  away  from  what  might  be  called  his  own 
door,  and  the  sight  of  his  powerlessness  had  strengthened 
their  independence  until  it  amounted  to  insubordination. 
Happily,  however,  before  the  discontent  broke  out  into 
open  mutiny,  a breeze  sprang  up  from  the  east,  and  the 
Admiral  easily  pei'suaded  his  unruly  crews  that  it  was  bet- 
ter to  prosecute  their  voyage  than  to  remain  beating  about 
the  islets  waiting  to  return  home.  Yet,  from  that  time  for- 
ward, it  was  one  long  battle  with  winds  and  waves.  Old 
age  was  beginning  to  make  itself  felt,  and  the  discoverer  of 
America  became  very  ill;  but,  full  of  the  sense  of  deep  re- 
sponsibility, he  had  his  bed  placed  in  a house  on  deck,  from 
which  he  could  direct  the  course  of  the  ships,  and  superin- 
tend all  arrangements  which  the  public  safety  required. 

They  were  soon  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  the  pine-clad 
Jopes  'of  the  little  island  of  Guanaja,  which  lies  off  the 
coast  oi  Hcr.duras.  Here  there  appeared  a canoe,  much 
more  like  the  ships  of  the  Old  World  than  any  they  had 
seen  before,  manned  by  twenty-five  Indians,  who  had  come 
from  the  mainland  on  a trading  voyage  among  the  islands. 
Their  cargo  consisted  of  cotton  fabrics,  iron-wood  swords, 
flint  knives,  copper  axe-heads,  and  a fruit  called  by  the 


‘ This  little  vessel  had  on  board  of  it  4,000  pieces  of  gold,  the  property  of  the  Admiral,  remitted. 
Vo  Spain  by  his  agent. — Irving. 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB US. 


153 


natives  cacao.,'  to  which  the  Spaniards  were  now  introduced 
for  the  first  time.  Nor  were  they  slow  to  appreciate  its 
merits.  The  venerable  Admiral  treated  these  people  with 
great  kindness,  and  won  their  confidence  at  once  by  pre- 
senting them  w'ith  some  of  the  glittering  toys  which  never 
fail  to  dazzle  the  childish  eye  of  the  barbaiian. 

Columbus  by  his  interpreter  made  many  inquiries,  and 
was  deeply  interested  in  the  account  he  received  of  the  great 
and  rich  country  to  the  west.  But  not  even  that  golden 
prize  could  tempt  him  to  renounce  the  predetermined  object 
of  his  voyage,  and  surrender  so  soon  his  search  after  the 
all-important  strait  which  was  to  disclose  to  Spain  a path- 
way round  the  world,  and  give  a suitable  completeness  to 
his  own  Heaven-appointed  work.  Within  a day  or  two, 
says  Irving,  he  would  have  arrived  at  Yucatan.  The  dis- 
covery of  Mexico  and  the  other  opulent  countries  of  New 
Spain  would  have  necessarily  followed  ; the  Southern  Ocean 
would  have  been  disclosed  to  him,  and  a succession  of  splen- 
did discoveries  would  have  shed  fresh  glory  on  his  declining 
age,  instead  of  its  sinking  amidst  gloom,  neglect,  and  disap- 
pointment. 

Steering  along  the  coast  of  Honduras,  he  reached  a cape 
to  which  he  gave  the  name  Gracias  a Dios'  in  pious  thanks- 
giving for  the  southerly  turn  taken  by  the  land  at  that 
point.  The  east  winds,  which  had  hitherto  obstructed  him 
were  now  favorable  to  his  course  along  the  coast.  The 
Tdmiral  himself  was  unable  to  move,  but  as  it  was  Sunday, 
and  the  eve  of  the  Feast  of  the  Assumption,  Don  Bartholo- 
mew and  the  captains  and  many  of  the  men  went  ashore  to 
hear  Mass.®  Then  there  soon  followed  a weary  struggle 
against  head- winds  and  contrary  currents,  with  continual 
rain  and  water- spouts,  and  such  dreadful  lightning  that  death 


• The  chocolate  tree;  it  grows  to  the  height  of  twenty  or  thirty  feet,  with  a brownish  bark,  ana 
bears  a pnlpish  fruit,  containing  seeds  of  a flat,  oblong  shape,  from  which  chocolate  is  made. 

• “ Thanks  be  to  God.”  This  cape  yet  retains  the  name  given  it  by  the  great  Admiral.  See  a 
map  of  Central  Amer"* *'. 

• The  first  Mass  on  the  mainland  was  said  on  the  coast  of  Faria  in  the  previous  voyage.  The 
honor  of  having  planted  the  first  cross  in  the  New  World,  by  which  possibly  the  mainland  of 
America  is  meant,  is  claimed  for  a father  of  the  Order  of  Mercy. — Father  Knight,  S.  J. 


154 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


and  the  end  of  the  world  were  in  the  thoughts  of  all.  Father 
Alexander,  a Franciscan,  the  only  priest  on  board,  adminis- 
tered the  sacraments  to  all  on  the  same  ship  with  him,  and 
in  the  other  vessels  the  men  made  their  confessions  to  one 
another,  and  waited  for  death.' 

The  Admiral  says  that  the  stoutest  hearts  quailed,  and 
that  he  had  never  known  a tempest  so  violent  and  so  long 
enduring,  and  that  in  sixty  days  they  had  advanced  only 
seventy  leagues.  He  felt  Ms  own  end  approaching,  and  was 
distressed  to  think  that  he  was  directly  responsible  for  the 
death  of  his  brother  and  his  son,  whom  he  had  persuaded 
to  bear  him  company. 

But  though  they  had  been  pursued  by  rain,  and  storm, 
and  lightning,  the  greatest  danger  was  now  at  hand.  On 
the  15th  of  December,  while  the  Admiral  was  still  in  bed, 
and  seemingly  in  his  last  agony,  wild  shrieks  came  from  one 
of  the  vessels.  The  sounds  of  terror  were  re-echoed  from  the 
others.  These  cries  of  despair  resounded  in  the  sad  but 
brave  soul  of  the  aimost  dying  Columbus.  He  opened  his 
eyes.  He  shuddered.  He  struggled  on  deck.  What  did 
he  see  ? 

At  a certain  point  the  ocean  seemed  to  be  agitated  by  vio- 
lent movements.  It  swelled  with  the  waves,  which  it  at- 
tracted to  this  centre,  and  arose  as  a single  mountain.  Dark 
clouds  descended  in  the  form  of  a reversed  cone,  and  stretched 
themselves  down  to  the  whirlpool,  which  gradually  arose  to 
meet  the  atmospheric  cone.  These  two  huge  forms  of  cloud 
and  sea  suddenly  met,  and  were  soon  locked  together  in  thu 
form  of  a whirling  X.  ‘'it  was  one  of  these  water-spouts,’  ’ 
v/rites  Chailevoix,  ‘ ‘ which  seamen  call  fronks.,  which  were 
then  so  little  known,  and  which  have  since  submerged  so 
many  vessels.”  A sharp,  hissing  noise  preceded  the  fatal 
v/hiff  of  this  frightful  form — then  without  a name  in  oui 
language — now  known  as  the  typhoon. 

Columbus,  who  was  always  greatest  in  danger,  and  equal 


' For  eighty-eight  days  the  dreadful  tempest  never  left  mo  ; my  people  were  very  sickly,  all 
contrite  for  their  sins,  and  many  with  promises  to  enter  religion,  and  not  one  without  vows  of 
pilgrimage  and  the  like.’’ — Litter  of  Columbus  to  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


155 


lo  any  emergency  w^ien  battling  with  the  unruly  elements, 
became  suddenly  re-animated.  He  saw  the  monstrous  form 
approaching.  The  sea  appeared  to  be  sucked  up  towards 
the  very  sky.  What  was  to  be  done  ? It  was  a new  danger. 
Art  was  useless;  navigation,  powerless;  experience,  nothing 
To  that  noble  mind,  full  of  a grand  and  holy  faith,  there  was 
yet  one  resource,  and  only  one.  He  would  call  on  God.  He 
had  blessed  candles  at  once  lighted,  and  placed  in  the  lan- 
terns. Though  scarcely  able  tc  stand,  the  venerable  Ad- 
miral girded  his  feeble  frame  with  his  sword,  over  the  cord 
of  St.  Francis ; and  hastily  seizing  the  New  Testament,  he 
stood  boldly  on  the  prow  of  his  ship,  facing  the  water 
spout,  which  was  coming  near.  He  began  to  read  the 
Gospel  of  St.  John,  trying  to  raise  his  voice  above  the  howl 
Jig  of  the  awful  tempest-  When  he  came  to  the  expression, 
■‘■And  the  Word  was  maae  flesh  and  dwelt  amongst  us,'*' 
the  aged  Christian  hero  commanded  the  water-spout  to  spare 
the  children  of  God  who  were  laboring  to  carry  the  Cross  to 
;he  ends  of  the  earth ; and,  full  of  faith,  he  drew  forth  his 
sword  and  traced  in  the  air  the  holy  sign  which  once  met 
ihe  eyes  of  Constantine,  and  gave  him  the  promised  victory. 
The  water- spout,  which  was  coming  straight  towards  the  car- 
avels, suddenly  appeared  to  change  its  direction,  passed  be- 
tween them,  and  went  off  bellowing,  to  lose  itself  in  the  im- 
mensity of  the  Atlantic ! 

When  we  come  to  consider  the  smallness  of  the  caravels, 
and  the  fearful  force  of  a tropicai  cyclone,  we  are  quite  justi- 
fied in  feeling  that  the  escape  of  Columbus  and  his  crews 
was  nothing  short  of  a miracle.  At  last,  after  eight  days’ 
tossing  to  and  fro,  the  mouth  of  a river  was  gained.  The 
Admiral  named  it  Bethlehem,  because  he  entered  it  on  the 
day  of  the  Epiphany. 

Pains,  trials,  and  disappointments — too  numerous  to  re- 
late here — now  crowded  around  the  thorny  pathway  of  the 
great  Admiral.  His  own  strength  was  exhausted  by  sick« 
ness.  His  ships  were  leaky  and  very  unsafe.  The  sea  and 
the  heavens  persisted  in  their  inclemency;  and  he  saw  only 
gloom  and  heart-rending  anguish  among  the  sailors.  One 


156 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


day,  in  the  midst  of  this  desolation,  sleep  closed  his  eyes 
His  afflicted  soul  heard  a “ tender  voice’  say : 

'‘Oh,  thou  fool,  slow  to  believe  and  to  serve  thy  God — the 
God  of  all!  What  more  did  He  for  Moses,  or  for  his  ser 
vant  David,  than  He  has  done  for  thee?  From  thy  birth  He 
has  taken  the  greatest  care  of  thee.  When  he  saw  thee 
come  to  a fitting  age,  He  made  thy  name  to  resound 
wondrously  throughout  the  earth.  The  Indies  — those 
wealthy  regions  of  the  world — He  gave  thee  for  thine  own, 
and  empowered  thee  to  dispose  of  them  according  to  thy 
pleasure.  To  thee  He  delivered  the  keys  of  the  ocean  gates 
which  were  closed  with  mighty  chains.  Thy  orders  were 
obeyed  in  many  countries,  and  among  Christians  thou 
didst  acquire  honorable  fame.  What  more  did  He  for  the 
people  of  Israel  when  he  led  them  from  Egypt?  Or  even 
for  David,  whom,  from  being  a shepherd,  he  made  King  of 
Judea?  Turn,  then,  to  Him,  and  acknowledge  thy  error. 
His  mercy  is  infinite.  Thy  age  shall  be  no  impediment  to 
any  great  undertaking.  Thou  urgest  for  succor  despond- 
ingly.  Answer!  who  hath  afflicted  thee  so  much  and  so  many 
times — God,  or  the  world?  The  privileges  and  promises 
which  God  hath  made  to  thee.  He  hath  never  broken; 
neither  hath  he  said,  after  having  received  the  services,  that 
his  meaning  was  different,  and  was  to  be  understood  in  a 
different  sense.  Never  doth  he  inflict  pain  in  order  to  show 
forth  His  power.  He  performs  to  the  very  letter.  He  fulfills 
all  that  he  promises,  and  with  increase.  Is  not  this  His  cus- 
tom? I have  shown  thee  what  thy  Creator  hath  done  for 
thee,  and  what  he  doth  for  all.  The  present  is  the  reward 
of  the  toils  and  perils  thou  hast  endured  in  serving  others.” 

“In  hearing  this,”  writes  Columbus,  “I  was  as  one  al- 
most dead,  and  had  no  power  to  reply  to  words  so  true.  I 
could  only  bewail  my  errors.  Whoever  it  was  that  spoke 
to  me  finished  by  saying:  ‘ Fear  not!  Have  confidence.  All 
these  tribulations  are  graven  in  marble,  and  it  is  not  with- 
out cause.’  ’” 


* “ In  transcribing  these  words,”  says  Count  de  Lorgues,  “ repeated  by  Columbus  himself,  witJ 
mtb  charming  artlessness,  we  are  seized  with  an  indefinable  respect.' 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


157 


After  vaxious  trials  and  adventures  along  the  Isthmus  or 
Panama,  and  having  sustained  the  loss  of  two  caravels, 
Columbus  felt  obliged  to  give  up  hunting  after  the  strait 
which  he  fancied  led  to  the  Pacific.  He  steered  north- 
wards towards  Cuba.  A collision  between  his  two  remaining 
vessels  rendered  them  still  more  unfit  to  cope  with  the  pow- 
erful squalls  and  breakers  of  the  West  Indies.  In  the  mid- 
dle of  June,  however,  with  his  crews  in  despair,  nearly  all 
his  anchors  lost,  and  his  vessels  worm-eaten  so  as  to  be  “as 
full  of  holes  as  a honey-comb,”  he  arrived  off  the  southern 
coast  of  Cuba,  where  he  obtained  supplies  of  cassava  bread 
from  some  friendly  Indians. 

The  Admiral  now  steered  for  Hispaniola,  but,  failing  to 
make  head  against  the  wind,  he  shaped  his  course  for  Ja- 
maica. He  reached  the  port  which  on  a former  visit  he 
named  Santa  Gloria.  This  was  to  be  the  end  of  his  vovage. 
As  the  ships  could  not  float  any  longer,  he  ran  them  on  shore, 
side  by  side,  and  built  huts  upon  the  decks  for  housing  the 
crews.  Such  a habitation — like  the  Swiss  lake-dwellings — 
afforded  remarkable  advantages  of  position  in  case  of  attack 
by  a hostile  tribe. 

The  Admiral’s  flrst  care  was  to  prevent  any  offense  being 
given  to  the  natives  which  might  give  cause  for  attack. 
He  knew,  by  sad  experience,  the  result  of  permitting  free 
intercourse  between  the  Spaniards  and  the  Indians,  and  now 
he  strictly  enforced  a rule  forbidding  any  seaman  to  go  ashore 
without  leave.  He  also  took  wise  measures  for  regulating 
the  traffic  for  food,  so  as  to  prevent  the  occurrence  of  any 
quarrel. 

James  Mendez,  who  had  been  his  lieutenant,  and  who  had 
shown  himself  the  boldest  of  his  officers  throughout  this 
voyage,  volunteered  to  proceed  into  the  interior  of  the  island 
to  make  arrangements  for  the  regular  supply  of  provisions 
from  some  of  the  more  remote  tribes,  as  it  was  certain  that 
such  a sudden  addition  to  the  population  would  soon 
exhaust  the  resources  of  the  immediate  neighborhood.  This 
service  Mendez  performed  with  great  skill,  and  a regular 
market  was  established,  to  which  the  natives  brought  fisk 


158 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


game,  and  cassava  bread,  in  exchange  for  Spanish  toys  and 
ornaments. 

The  immediate  wants  of  his  people  being  thus  provided 
for,  the  venerable  Admiral  revolved  in  his  anxious  mind  the 
means  of  getting  from  this  island.  His  ships  were  beyond 
the  possibility  of  repair,  and  there  was  no  hope  of  a chance 
sail  arriving  to  his  relief,  on  the  shores  of  a savage  land — in 
an  unfrequented  sea.  In  this  awful  position,  feeling  his 
responsibility  for  the  lives  of  those  who  were  under  him,  he 
deplored  the  mortal  destiny  of  Christopher  Columbus.  “I 
have  hitherto  v/ept  for  others,”  he  exclaimed,  ‘‘but  now 
Heaven  have  pity  on  me ; and,  O Earth ! weep  for  me  ! . . , 
Weep  for  me,  whoever  has  charity — truth — ^Justice  !” 

What  other  mortal  ever  uttered  such  language?  What 
poet,  what  prophet,  what  hero  of  the  G-ospel,  in  speaking  of 
himself,  ever  used  a more  energetic  boldness  of  imagery,  or 
clothed  with  a grander  dignity  the  accents  that  arose  from 
his  troubled  heart?  Here,  indeed,  we  feel  that  “the  style  is 
the  man.”  Grandeur,  simplicity,  sadness  and  boldness  are 
found  beautifully  harmonized,  as  if  they  were  a single  utter- 
ance of  the  great  soul  of  Columbus. 

For  nine  days  the  Catholic  discoverer  of  America  medi- 
tated and  remained  in  the  presence  of  God.  For  light  and 
guidance  in  his  unexampled  distress  he  looked  up  to  Heaven, 
determined  to  know,  according  to  the  expression  of  Peter 
Martyr,  what  the  Most  High  had  decided  in  his  regard.  At 
length,  a mode  of  relief  flashed  on  his  mind.  He  thought 
of  the  noble  James  Mendez,  whose  loyalty  and  dauntless 
courage  he  had  so  often  proved.  He  took  him  aside,  to 
sound  him  on  the  subject,  and  Mendez  himself  has  written 
an  account  of  this  conversation,  which  is  full  of  interest. 

“Mendez,  my  son,  ” said  the  venerable  Admiral,  “of  all 
those  who  are  here,  you  and  I alone  know  the  great  peril  in 
which  we  are  placed.  We  are  few  in  number,  and  these 
savage  Indians  are  many,  and  of  flckle  and  irritable  natures. 
On  the  least  provocation  they  may  throw  firebrands  from 
the  shore,  and  consume  us  in  our  straw- thatched  cabins. 
The  arrangement  which  you  have  made  for  provisions,  and 


GHRISTOPHEH  GOLUMBRkj. 


m 


which  at  present  they  fulfill  so  cheerfully,  they  may  capri- 
ciously break  to-morrow,  and  may  refuse  to  bring  us  any 
thing  ; nor  have  we  the  means  of  compelling  them.  I have 
thought  of  a remedy,  if  it  meets  your  views.  In  this  canoe 
which  you  have  purchased  some  one  may  pass  over  to 
Hispaniola,  and  procure  a ship,  by  which  we  shall  all  be 
delivered  from  this  great  peril.  Tell  me  your  opinion  on 
the  matter.” 

“Senor,”  replied  Mendez,  “I  well  know  our  danger  to 
be  far  greater  than  is  easily  conceived;  but  as  to  passing  to 
Hispaniola  in  so  small  a vessel  as  a canoe,  I hold  it  not 
merely  diflBcult,  but  impossible,  since  it  is  necessary  to  trav- 
erse a gulf  of  forty  leagues,  and  between  islands  Avhere  the 
sea  is  impetuous  and  seldom  in  repose.  I know  not  who 
there  is  would  venture  upon  so  extreme  a peril.” 

Columbus  made  no  reply;  but  from  his  looks,  and  the 
nature  of  his  silence,  Mendez  plainly  perceived  himself  to 
be  the  person  whom  the  Admiral  had  in  view.  Resuming, 
therefore,  the  conversation,  “Senor,”  said  he,  “I  have 
many  times  put  my  life  in  peril  to  save  you  and  my  com- 
rades, and  God  has  hitherto  preserved  me  in  a miraculous 
manner.  There  are,  nevertheless,  murmurers,  who  say  that 
your  Excellency  intrusts  to  me  every  affair  wherein  honor 
is  to  be  gained,  while  there  are  others  in  company  who 
would  execute  them  as  well  as  I.  I beg,  therefore,  that  you 
would  assemble  the  people,  and  propose  this  enterprise,  to 
see  if  any  cne  will  undertake  it,  which  I doubt.  If  all  de- 
cline, I will  then  come  forward  and  risk  my  life  in  your  ser- 
vice, as  I have  many  times  done  already,” 

The  Admiral  willingly  humored  the  wishes  of  the  worthy 
Mendez.  On  the  following  morning  the  crew'  wus  assem- 
bled, and  the  proposition  made.  Every  one  drew'  back,  pro- 
nouncing it  the  height  of  rashness.  Upon  this  Mendez 
stepped  forward.  “Senor,”  said  he,  “ I have  but  one  life 
to  lose,  yet  I am  w'illing  to  venture  it  for  your  service,  and 
for  the  good  of  all  here  present;  and  I trust  in  the  i)rotec- 
tion  of  God,  which  I have  experienced  on  so  many  other 
occasions.” 


160 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


Columbas,  having  heard  this  announcement,  arose  from 
his  seat,  and  calling  the  brave  Mendez  to  him,  embraced 
him,  saying  aloud;  “I  well  knew  that  there  was  nobody 
here  but  you  who  would  undertake  this  achievement.  I 
have  a firm  confidence  that  our  Lord  God  will  enable  you  to 
overcome  the  dangers  that  threaten  you,  as  He  has  done  on 
so  many  other  occasions.”  Mendez  at  once  set  about  to 
prepare  for  the  expedition.  No  precaution  of  human  pru- 
dence was  neglected.  Drawing  his  canoe  on  shore,  he  put 
on  a false  keel,  and  nailed  weather-boards  along  the  bow  and 
stern,  to  prevent  the  sea  from  breaking  over  it.  He  then 
payed  it  with  a coat  of  tar,  furnished  it  with  a mast  and 
sail,  and  put  in  provisions  for  himself,  a Spanish  comrade, 
and  six  Indians. 

In  the  meanwhile,  Columbus  wrote  a letter  to  Ovando, 
Governor  of  Hispaniola,  begging  that  a ship  might  imme- 
diately be  sent  to  bring  him  and  his  men  to  Hispaniola;  and 
he  wrote  another  to  the  Sovereigns,  entreating  for  a ship  to 
convey  them  from  Hispaniola  to  Spain.  In  this  letter  he 
gave  a comprehensive  account  of  his  voyage.  He  supposed 
himself  to  have  reached  the  confines  of  the  dominions  of 
the  Grand  Khan,  and  olfered,  if  he  lived  to  return  to  Spain, 
to  conduct  a mission  thither  to  instruct  that  potentate  in 
the  Christian  faith.  What  an  instance  of  soaring  Catholic 
enthusiasm  and  irrepressible  enterprise  is  here  exhibited! 
At  the  time  he  was  indulging  these  visions,  and  proposing 
new  and  romantic  enterprises,  he  was  broken  down  by  age 
and  infirmities,  racked  by  pain,  confined  to  his  bed,  and  shut 
up  in  a wreck  on  the  coast  of  a remote  and  savage  island. 

The  dispatches  being  ready,  James  Mendez  embarked  with 
his  Spanish  comrade  and  his  six  Indians,  and  coasted  the 
island  eastward.  Their  voyage  was  toilsome  and  perilous. 
When  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  island,  they  were  suddenly 
surrounded  and  taken  prisoners  by  the  Indians,  who  carried 
them  three  leagues  into  the  interior,  where  they  determined 
to  kill  them.  A dispute,  however,  arising  about  the  divis- 
ion of  the  spoils,  they  agreed  to  settle  it,  after  the  Indian 
fashion,  by  a game  of  ball.  While  thus  engaged,  Mendez 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


161 


escaped,  regained  his  canoe,  and  made  his  way  back  to  the 
harbor  in  it  alone,  after  fifteen  days’  absence. 

Nothing  daunted  by  the  perils  and  hardships  he  had  un- 
dergone, he  offered  to  depart  immediately  on  a second  at- 
tempt, provided  he  could  be  escorted  to  the  end  of  the 
island  by  an  armed  force.  His  offer  was  accepted,  and  Bar- 
tholomew Fiesco,  a Genoese,  who  had  commanded  one  of 
the  caravels,  and  was  strongly  attached  to  the  Admiral,  was 
associated  with  him  in  this  second  expedition.  Each  had  a 
canoe,  with  six  Spaniards  and  ten  Indians,  under  his  com- 
mand. On  reaching  Hispaniola,  Fiesco  was  to  return  im- 
mediately to  Jamaica,  to  bring  tidings  to  the  Admiral  of 
the  safe  arrival  of  his  messenger;  while  James  Mendez  was 
to  proceed  to  San  Domingo,  and,  after  purchasing  and  dis- 
patching a ship,  was  to  depart  for  Spain  with  the  letter  to 
the  Sovereigns. 

All  arrangements  being  made,  the  Indians  placed  in  the 
canoes  a supply  of  cassava  bread,  and  each  his  calabash  of 
water.  The  Spaniards,  beside  their  provisions,  had  each  his 
sword  and  target.  Don  Bartholomew,  with  an  anned  band, 
kept  pace  with  them  along  the  coast,  until  they  reached  the 
end  of  the  island,  where,  waiting  for  three  days  until  the 
weather  was  perfectly  serene,  they  launched  forth  on  the 
broad  bosom  of  the  sea.  Don  Bartholomew  remained  watch- 
ing them  until  they  became  mere  specks  on  the  ocean,  and 
the  evening  hid  them  from  his  view,  and  then  returned  to 
the  harbor. 

Day  after  day,  and  week  after  week,  did  the  poor  Span- 
iards keep  a wistful  look-out  upon  the  sea  for  the  expected 
return  of  Fiesco,  flattering  themselves  that  every  canoe, 
gliding  at  a distance,  might  be  the  harbinger  of  deliverance. 
Months  elapsed,  however,  without  his  arrival,  and  they 
began  to  fear  that  he  and  Mendez  had  perished.  Enfeebled 
by  past  sufferings,  present  confinement,  and  low  diet,  they 
became  extremely  sickly,  and  their  maladies  were  height- 
ened by  anxiety  and  suspense.  Some  gradually  sank 
into  despondency ; others  became  peevish  and  impatient, 
and,  in  their  unreasonable  heat,  railed  at  their  vener- 


162 


CHRISTOPHER  C0LUMBTJ8. 


able  and  infirm  commander  as  the  cause  of  all  tlieir  mis- 
fortunes. ‘ 

At  last,  in  January,  1504,  the  loud  murmurs  broke  out 
into  open  mutiny.  Francis  Porras,  the  captain  of  one  of 
the  caravels,  headed  the  howling  mob.  They  proceeded  to 
the  sick  couch  of  the  Admiral,  who  was  confined  by  a severe 
attack  of  the  gout.  Porras,  with  bold  effrontery,  told 
Columbus  that  he  was  afraid  to  return  to  Spain,  but  that 
the  seamen  had  sworn  to  remain  no  longer,  and  intended  to 
depart  at  once.  On  this  there  arose  shouts  from  the  follow- 
ers of  Porras:  “To  Castile!  To  Castile!  We  follow!” 

The  Admiral,  with  wonderful  patience  and  dignity,  made 
a speech,  in  which  he  pointed  out  the  danger  of  attempting 
to  leave  the  island  in  mere  canoes.  He  said  it  was  absurd 
to  suppose  that  he  had  not  a common  interest  with  them  in 
all  respects.  But  Porras  was  as  obstinate  in  his  desire  to 
go,  as  Columbus  in  his  determination  to  stay;  and,  taking 
possession  of  the  canoes  which  had  been  purchased  from  the 
natives,  the  mutineers  ” set  out  on  their  journey  towards  His- 
paniola, leaving  the  Admiral  and  Don  Bartholomew  with 
scarcely  any  adherents  except  those  whom  sickness  pre- 
vented from  undertaking  the  journey. 

The  unfortunate  progress  of  Porras  and  his  followers 
through  the  island  was  marked  by  a series  of  outrages  on 
the  Indians.  This  completely  neutralized  the  effect  of  the 
Admiral’s  excellent  policy.  The  mutineers  forcibly  seized 
on  whatever  provisions  could  be  found,  and  mockingly 
referred  the  simple  owners  to  Columbus  for  payment.  Three 
attempts  to  cross  over  to  Hispaniola  failed  in  consequence 
of  rough  weather.  On  one  occasion,  the  canoes  were  in  so 
much  danger  of  being  swamped  that  the  Spaniards  cast 
everything  on  board  into  the  sea;  and,  as  this  did  not  lighten 
the  canoes  sufficiently,  they  then  proceeded  to  force  over- 


> Irving. 

* Porras  and  his  band,  it  seems,  numbered  forty-eight.  They  meditated  killing  Columbus  and 
his  friends,  but  being  assured  by  some  officers  that  they  would  thus  incur  the  vengeance  of  the 
Sovereigns,  they  for  the  present  contented  themselves  with  taking  six  canoes,  which  the  Admiral 
had  purchased  from  the  Indians,  and  with  these — after  helping  themselves  to  arms  and  provis- 
ions— they  went  away,  shouting  defiance. — De  Lorgum. 


CERISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


163 


board  the  unhappy  Indians  by  whom  they  were  accompa- 
nied. Many  of  the  poor  savages  swam  after  them  for  a long 
time,  but  sank  one  by  one,  as  the  swords  of  the  cruel  muti- 
neers prevented  them  from  approaching  the  boats.  They 
were  finally  obliged  to  abandon  the  design  of  reaching  His- 
paniola, and  began  to  roam  over  the  island,  quartering 
themselves  on  the  Indians,  and  committing  every  possible 
excess. 

Of  course,  the  infiuence  of  this  scoundrelism  on  the  rela- 
tions between  Columbus  and  the  natives  was  soon  apparent. 
The  trinkets  and  beads — once  so  precious  in  their  eyes — had 
first  lost  the  charm  of  novelty,  then  the  value  of  rarity.  The 
circulating  medium  became  so  depreciated  that  provisions 
were  scarcely  to  be  obtained  at  all.  And,  unfortunately,  the 
personal  veneration  which  the  untutored  Indians  had  first 
evinced  for  the  white  men  had  gradually  given  way  to 
hatred  and  contempt.  Familiarity  had  shown  how  Avorthless 
were  these  “superior  beings.”  The  Indians  refused  to  min- 
ister to  their  wants  any  longer ; and  thus,  while  pain  and 
sickness  gnawed  the  heart  of  the  aged  Admiral,  gaunt  famine 
added  itself  to  his  bitter  enemies. 

But  the  great  man — aided,  no  doubt,  by  light  from  Heaven 
— was  equal  even  to  this  emergency.  Partly  from  his  scientific 
knowledge,  and  partly  from  inspiration,  he  became  aware 
that  on  a certain  night  an  eclipse  of  the  moon  would  occur. 
In  this  event  his  fertile  mind  beheld  the  means  of  escaping 
from  starvation.  He  judged — and  rightly  judged,  as  the 
event  proved — ^that  by  predicting  the  eclipse  he  would  gain 
a reputation  as  a prophet,  and  command  the  respect  and  obe- 
dience due  to  a person  invested  with  supernatural  powers. 
He  assembled  the  chiefs  of  the  neighboring  tribes.  Then, 
by  means  of  an  interpreter,  he  reproached  them  with  refus- 
ing to  continue  to  supply  provisions  to  the  Spaniards. 

“The  God  who  protects  me,”  he  said,  “will  punish  you. 
You  know  what  has  happened  to  those  of  my  followers  who 
have  rebelled  against  me,  and  the  dangers  which  they  en- 
countered in  their  attempt  to  cross  to  Hayti ; Avhile  those 
who  went  at  my  command  made  the  passage  -.ithout  diffi- 


164 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


culty.  Soon,  too,  shall  the  Divine  vengeance  fall  on  you. 
This  very  night  shall  the  moon  change  her  color  and  lose 
her  light,  in  testimony  of  the  evils  which  shall  be  sent  upon 
you  from  the  skies.” 

Of  the  Indians,  many  were  alarmed  at  the  prediction. 
Others  went  away  shouting  in  mockery.  Night  came.  It 
was  fine.  The  moon  shone  down  in  full  brilliancy.  But  at 
the  appointed  time  the  predicted  phenomenon  took  place, 
and  the  wild  howls  of  the  savages  proclaimed  their  abject 
terror.  In  a body  they  ran  to  Columbus,  imploring  his 
intercession.  They  promised  to  let  him  want  for  noth- 
ing, if  only  he  would  avert  this  judgment.  As  an  earn- 
est of  their  sincerity,  they  hastily  collected  a quantity 
of  food,  and  laid  it  at  his  feet.  At  first  he  seemed  to 
hesitate,  but  in  a little  while  he  was  softened  by  their  en- 
treaties. He  said  he  would  go  and  speak  to  his  God,  and 
retired  to  the  cabin.  That  he  prayed  to  Heaven  for  the  sal- 
vation of  those  poor  Indians  there  can  be  no  doubt.  As  the 
venerable  Admiral  returned  from  his  cabin,  the  eclipse  be- 
gan to  decrease.  Soon  the  terrible  shadow  passed  away 
from  the  face  of  the  moon,  and  the  gratitude  of  the  dusky 
natives  was  as  deep  as  their  former  terror.  But,  being 
blended  with  awe,  it  was  not  so  brief  as  gratitude  often  is. 
Henceforward  there  was  no  failure  in  the  regular  supply  of 
provisions. 

Eight  months  had  passed  away  without  any  tidings  of 
Mendez,  when  one  evening  there  unexpectedly  hove  in  sight 
a small  caravel,  which  stood  in  towards  the  harbor  of  Santa 
Gloria,  and  anchored  just  outside.  A boat  was  seen  to  put 
off  from  the  caravel.  It  brought  on  shore  her  commander, 
a certain  James  de  Escobar.  Columbus  recognized  in  this 
person  a man  whom  he  had  once  sentenced  to  be  hanged 
for  mutiny  in  Hispaniola,  but  who  had  been  pardoned  by 
Bobadilla.  The  proceedings  of  this  newcomer  were  singular 
enough.  Standing  at  a distance  from  Columbus — as  if  the 
Admiral  were  in  quarantine — de  Escobar  shouted  at  the  top 
of  his  voice  a message  from  Ovando,  the  acting  Governor  of 
Hispaniola.  Ovando,  he  said,  regretted  the  Admiral’s  mis- 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


165- 


fortunes  very  keenly,  and  hoped,  before  long,  to  send  a ship 
of  suflSicient  size  to  take  him  off.  In  the  meantime,  he 
added,  Ovando  begged  him  to  accept  a slight  mark  of 
friendship.  The  “slight  mark  of  friendship”  was  nothing 
less  than  a side  of  bacon,  a small  cask  of  wine,  and  a letter ! 
These  he  delivered  to  the  Admiral,  and  at  once  rowed  off 
as  fast  as  possible.  The  feelings  of  the  great  old  man  may 
in  part  be  imagined. 

Difficulties,  alas!  but  grew  with  time.  Porras  and  his 
reckless  band  of  mutineers  soon  put  in  an  appearance.  The 
leader,  feeling  sure  that  he  had  sinned  beyond  forgiveness, 
was  resolved  that  his  men  should  share  his  desperation.  In 
short,  he  had  resolved  to  attack  the  Admiral.  Columbus, 
in  the  goodness  of  his  great  heart,  made  overtures  of  peace, 
and  sent  an  offer  of  forgiveness  to  Porras  and  aU  his  men 
on  condition  of  immediate  surrender.  But  the  insolent 
ruffian  laughed  at  the  offer,  and,  in  return,  made  such 
haughty  demands  that  any  reconciliation  was  impossible. 

One  day  the  mutineers  marched  to  the  harbor,  headed  by 
the  bold  Porras.  It  was  their  intention  to  seize  upon  the 
stores  remaining  on  the  wreck,  and  to  get  the  Admiral  in 
their  power.  The  latter,  however,  heard  of  their  approach, 
but,  being  confined  by  his  infirmities,  sent  his  brother  to  rea- 
son with  them,  and  endeavor  to  win  them  to  obedience.  Don 
Bartholomew,  who  was  generally  a man  rather  of  deeds  than 
words,  took  with  him  a number  of  men  well  armed.  Arriv- 
ing near  the  rebels,  he  sent  messengers  to  treat  with  them; 
but  Porras  forbade  them  to  approach.  He  cheered  his  fol- 
lowers by  pointing,  with  derision,  to  the  pale  countenances 
of  their  opponents,  who  were  emaciated  by  recent  sickness 
and  long  confinement  in  the  wreck;  whereas  his  men,  for 
the  most  part,  were  hardy  sailors,  rendered  robust  by  living 
in  the  open  air.  He  assured  them  the  followers  of  Don  Bar- 
tholomew were  mere  household  men,  fair-weather  troops, 
who  could  never  stand  before  them. 

Deluded  by  this  harangue  into  a transient  glow  of  cour- 
age, the  rebels  did  not  wait  to  be  attacked,  but  rushed  with 
shouts  upon  the  enemy.  Six  of  them  had  made  a league  to. 


166 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


assault  Don  Bartholomew,  but  were  so  well  received  that  he 
laid  several  of  them  dead  at  his  feet,  among  whom  was  John 
Sanchez,  a powerful  mariner  who  had  once  carried  off  an 
Indian  chief. 

In  the  midst  of  the  fearful  affray,  Don  Bartholomew  was 
savagely  assailed  by  the  now  desperate  Porras,  who,  with  a 
blow  of  his  sword,  cleft  his  buckler,  and  wounded  the  hand 
which  grasped  it.  The  sword  remained  wedged  in  the  shield, 
and  before  it  could  be  withdrawn,  the  Admiral’s  fearless 
brother  closed  upon  the  chief  of  the  mutineers,  grappled 
him,  and,  being  assisted  by  others,  succeeded  in  taking  him 
prisoner. 

The  rebels,  seeing  their  leader  a captive,  fled  in  confusion, 
but  were  not  pursued,  through  fear  of  an  attack  from  the 
Indians,  who  had  remained  drawn  up  in  battle  array,  gazing 
with  astonishment  at  this  flght  between  white  men,  but 
without  offering  to  aid  either  party.  Don  Bartholomew  re- 
turned in  triumph  to  the  wreck,  with  Porras  and  several 
other  prisoners.  Only  two  of  his  own  men  had  been 
wounded,  one  of  whom  died. 

On  the  following  day,  the  rebels  sent  a letter  to  the  Ad- 
miral, signed  with  all  their  names,  confessing  their  mis- 
deeds, imploring  pardon,  and  making  a solemn  oath  of  obe- 
dience, imprecating  the  most  awful  curses  on  their  heads 
should  they  break  it.  The  Admiral,  seeing  the  abject  na- 
ture of  the  letter,  how  completely  the  spirit  of  these  mis- 
guided men  was  broken,  with  his  wonted  magnanimity,  he 
pardoned  their  offenses,  merely  retaining  their  ringleader, 
Francis  Porras,  a prisoner,  to  be  tried  in  Spain  for  his 
misdeeds.' 

It  was  not  until  the  28th  of  June,  1504 — ^just  a year  after 
their  arrival  at  Santa  Gloria — that  Columbus  and  his  men  were 
gladdened  by  the  sight  of  the  two  caravels  which  had  been 
sent  to  their  relief.  One  was  from  the  faithful  Mendez,  the 
other  from  Ovando.  The  embarkation  of  the  castaways,  as 
may  be  supposed,  was  quickly  effected;  but  adverse  winds 


- Irving. 


CHBISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


167 


made  the  voyage  to  Hispaniola  a long  one.  The  two  vessels 
did  not  reach  San  Domingo  before  the  15th  of  August.' 

The  venerable  Admiral’s  stay  was  short,  but  far  from  pleas- 
ant, in  the  beautiful  island  which  he  had  once  discovered,  and 
in  which  so  many  of  his  hopes  rested.  He  was  all  anxiety  to 
return  to  Spain,  and  boarded  a caravel  whose  prow  was 
directed  towards  Europe.  Alas!  even  in  this  last  voyage 
he  was  forced  to  “make  head  against  a sea  of  troubles.”  His 
evil  star  was  in  the  ascendant.  Twice  his  vessel  nearly 
foundered.  Twice  her  masts  were  sprung  in  successive  tem- 
pests. His  own  shattered  constitution  was  gradually  giving 
way  to  acute  attacks  of  the  gout,  which  had  become  more 
and  more  frequent  for  the  last  few  years.  And  thus,  pros- 
trated by  sickness,  nearly  ruined  in  means,  and  now  hope- 
less of  any  encouragement  from  Ferdinand  and  Isabella, 
the  discoverer  of  the  New  World,  the  great  old  Catholic 
hero  who  had  doubled  the  size  of  the  world’s  map,  arrived 
at  Seville  on  the  7th  of  November,  1504,  in  as  miserable  a 
plight  as  even  his  vilest  enemy  could  have  wished. 


> “ The  young  Hernando  Cortes  was  in  the  crowd  which  greeted  the  return  of  the  veteran  dis- 
cnverer.  He  never  lost  his  admiration  of  Columbus,  and  in  many  things  strove  to  follow  hi* 
Mxaixpie."— Father  Knight,  8.  J, 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  SETTING  SUN  OF  A GLORIOUS  LIFE. 

Poverty  and  old  age  assail  Columbus — Death  of  Isabellm 
the  Catholic — Extracts  from  the  AdmiraVs  letters — The 
_ death-bed  of  a hero — Confirming  his  will — The  last  mo- 
ments of  America's  Discoverer — His  many  tombs — His 
Character — Miracles. 

We  hasten  to  the  end  with  feelings  of  mingled  sorrow 
and  admiration.  The  infirmities  of  the  great  Admiral 
were  too  many  to  permit  him  to  proceed  to  Court.  He 
therefore  passed  the  winter  at  Seville,  in  a sad  state  of 
bodily  and  mental  sutfering.  Care  and  misfortune  were 
destined  to  follow  him  by  sea  and  land,  and,  in  changing  the 
scene,  he  but  changed  the  nature  of  his  afilictions.  His 
atfairs  were  all  in  confusion.  Such  had  been  the  case  ever 
since  his  arrest  by  Bobadilla.  His  revenues  arising  in  His- 
paniola were  not  sent  to  him  ; and  his  recent  disastrous  voy- 
age had  involved  him  in  expenses,  for  the  greater  part  of 
which  the  Crown  remained  his  debtor. 

Writing  to  his  son,  Don  James,  he  urges  him  to  economy. 
“Of  the  revenue  due  to  me,”  says  the  aged  Admiral,  “I 
receive  nothing,  but  live  by  borrowing.  Little  have  I prof- 
ited by  twenty  years  of  toils  and  perils,  since  at  present  I 
do  not  own  a roof  in  Spain.  I have  no  resort  but  an  inn, 
and  for  most  of  the  time  I am  unable  to  meet  my  bills.” 

His  own  sorrows  and  misfortunes,  however,  afflicted  him 
less  than  those  of  his  friends  and  followers,  whose  ruin  was 
involved  in  his.  In  their  behalf  he  warmly  pleaded  with 
the  Spanish  Sovereigns.  But  the  cold  and  jealous  Ferdinand 
still  had  his  ears  open  to  the  false  accusers  who  were  ever 
ready  to  malign  Columbus ; and  although  the  favor  of  the 
noble  Isabella  had  never  failed  him,  she  was  now,  alas ! on 
168 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


169 


the  confines  of  eternity.  “I  have  served  your  Majesties,  ’ 
wrote  the  incomparable  hero,  “with  as  much  zeal  and  con- 
stancy as  if  I had  been  seeking  after  Paradise,  and  if  I 
have  fallen  short  in  anything,  it  is  because  my  mind  and 
strength  were  unequal  to  the  effort.” 

“May  it  please  the  Holy  Trinity,”  he  exclaims  in  a letter 
to  his  son,  “to  restore  our  Sovereign  Queen  to  her  health; 
for  by  her  everything  will  be  adjusted  that  is  now  in  con- 
fusion.” Alas!  before  he  had  penned  these  words,  the 
great  and  saintly  Isabella  the  Catholic  was  no  more  in  this 
world.  * 

“O  my  dear  son  James,”  wrote  the  heavy-hearted  Colum- 
bus, when  he  heard  of  this  sad  event,  “let  this  be  a lesson 
to  you  as  regards  your  present  duty.  The  first  thing  is  to 
recommend  the  soul  of  our  sovereign  the  Queen  to  God, 
with  piety  and  affection.  She  was  so  good  and  so  holy  that 
we  may  rest  assured  of  her  eternal  happiness.  She  is  now 
sheltered  from  all  the  cares  and  tribulations  of  this  world  in 
the  bosom  of  God.  The  next  thing  I recommend  to  you  is  to 
watch  and  labor  with  all  your  strength  for  the  service  of  the 
King.  It  is  the  duty  of  all  to  pray  for  the  comfort  and 
preservation  of  his  life  ; but  it  is  ours  in  an  especial  man- 
ner, since  we  are  his  servants.” 

What  chivalrous  loyalty  and  devotion,  even  in  the  very 
extremity  of  misfortune ! 

During  a great  part  of  the  spring,  Columbus  was  detained 
at  Seville  by  his  maladies.  Don  Bartholomew,  in  the  mean- 
time, proceeded  to  Court  to  attend  to  the  Admiral’s  con- 
cerns. He  was  accompanied  by  the  young  Fernando  Co- 
lumbus, then  about  seventeen  years  old.  In  a letter  to  his 
elder  son,  James,  the  illustrious  discoverer  of  America  in- 
culcates the  strongest  brotherly  attachment.  He  refers  to 
his  own  noble  brothers  with  one  of  those  warm  and  affect- 


> After  four  months  of  illness  she  died,  in  the  fifty -fourth  year  of  her  age;  hnt  long  before  her 
eyes  closed  upon  the  world,  her  heart  had  closed  upon  all  its  pomps  and  vanities.  . . . She  was 
one  of  the  purest  spirits  that  ever  ruled  over  the  destinies  of  a nation.  Had  she  been  spared, 
her  benignant  vigilance  would  have  prevented  many  a scene  of  horror  in  the  New  World,  and 
might  have  softened  the  lot  of  its  native  inhabitants.  As  it  is,  her  fair  name  will  ever  shine 
with  celestial  radiance  in  the  early  dawning  of  its  history. — Irving. 


170 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


ing  touches  which  bespeak  the  kindness  of  his  heart.  “To 
your  brother,”  -wrote  the  aged  hero,  “conduct  yourself  as 
the  elder  brother  should  unto  the  younger.  You  have  no 
other,  and  I praise  God  that  this  is  such  a one  as  you  need. 
Ten  brothers  Avould  not  be  too  many  for  you.  Never  have 
I found  a better  friend,  to  right  or  to  left,  than  my 
brothers.” 

It  was  not  until  the  month  of  May  that  Columbus  was 
able  to  accomplish  his  Journey  to  Court.  He  who  but  a few 
years  before  had  entered  the  city  of  Barcelona  in  triumph, 
attended  by  the  chivalry  of  Spain,  and  hailed  with  rapture 
by  the  multitude,  now  arrived  at  the  gates  of  Segovia  a 
neglected,  way-worn  and  melancholy  man.  He  was  weighed 
down  by  sorrows  even  more  than  by  years  and  infirmities. 

To  the  cold  but  courteous  Ferdinand  the  presence  of  the 
Admiral  seemed  to  be  importunate,  and  his  poverty  was 
regarded  as  a keen  though  tacit  reproach.  Commissioners 
were,  it  is  true,  appointed  to  inquire  into  his  conduct,  and 
the  degree  of  justice  vdth  which  he  claimed  the  restitution 
of  his  property  and  his  privileges.  They  found  no  reason 
to  deny  his  rights,  but  they  wasted  his  patience  by  their 
delays.  Nor  was  this  all.  Anxiety,  and  the  dread  he  felt 
of  leaving  his  sons  and  his  brother  unprovided  for,  added 
to  his  bodily  sufferings. 

“Your  Majesty,”  he  wrote  to  the  King  from  his  sick 
couch,  “conceives  it  inexpedient  to  fulfill  the  promises  which 
I received  from  you,  and  from  the  Queen  who  is  now  in 
glory.  To  struggle  against  your  will  would  be  to  vTestle 
with  the  wind.  I have  done  my  duty.  May  God,  who  has 
ever  shown  me  mercy,  order  the  rest  according  to  His  divine 
justice ! ” 

Alas ! it  was  the  hero’ s life  rather  than  his  dauntless 
spirit  that  even  then  was  sinking  under  him.  At  his  own 
request,  his  brother,  Don  Bartholomew,  and  his  son  James, 
were  at  that  very  time  absent  to  implore  aid  from  Queen 
Juana,  Isabella’s  daughter,  who  was  on  her  way  from  Flan- 
ders to  Castile.  Everything  seemed  to  conspire  against  him 
in  his  last  hours.  Physical  suffering,  mental  anguish,  and 


CHRiio'l JPHER  COL  UMB US. 


171 


the  feeling  that  his  life  was  about  to  be  cut  short  before  he 
could  hope  to  see  himself  honorably  justified;  the  triumph  of 
his  bitter  enemies  at  Court,  the  courtiers’  derision,  the  King’s 
coldness,  the  shadow  of  death,  which  he  saw  daily  approach- 
ing, and  the  sad  loneliness  in  which  the  absence  of  his  son 
and  his  brother  left  him  in  a forgetful  and  ungrateful  town ; 
the  recollections  of  a life  spent,  the  one  half  in  the  expecta- 
tion of  a glorious  destiny,  the  other  in  deploring  the  un- 
happy fate  of  genius  despised;  the  thought  of  his  brothers 
without  provision,  his  son  without  a heritage,  and  the 
uncertain  fate  of  his  memory  among  future  generations— all 
these  tribulations  of  limbs  and  mind,  of  body  and  soul,  of 
past;  present  and  future,  weighed  in  one  bitter  moment  on 
the  venerable  Admiral. 

Let  us  reverently  approach  the  dying  hero.  Let  us  behold 
his  last  hours.  It  may  teach  us  how  to  die.  We  can  imag- 
ine what  a hotel  must  have  been  at  that  day  in  Spain.  In 
a lonely  chamber  lay  the  Grand  Admiral  of  the  Ocean  on 
his  bed  of  suffering.  The  bare  walls  were  ornamented  with 
naught  but  his  chains.  He  requested  one  of  his  attendants 
— an  old  and  faithful  companion  of  his  voyages — to  bring 
to  his  bedside  a pen,  ink  and  writing  materials.  Several 
years  before  he  had  made  his  will,  but  he  wished,  in  his 
last  hours,  to  confirm  what  he  had  already  done,  and  to 
give  a final  impress  of  indisputable  authenticity  to  the  docu- 
ment. What  a strange  sight,  to  behold  a man  shunned  by 
the  great,  abandoned  by  the  w^orld,  and  stretched  on  a bed 
of  poverty  in  a miserable  little  room,  distributing  seas, 
islands,  countries. 

As  already  stated,'  he  made  his  son  Don  James,  his  chief 
heir.  “I  beseech  my  Sovereigns  and  their  successors,” 
wrote  Columbus,  “to  uphold  forever  this,  my  last  will,  in 
the  distribution  of  my  rights,  my  goods  and  my  offices— I 
who,  although  born  at  Genoa,  came  to  Castile  to  serve 
them,  and  who  have  discovered,  in  the  West,  mainland, 
islands  and  the  Indies.  My  son  shall  hold  my  office  of  Ad- 


• See  p.  IM. 


172 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


miral  on  mat  part  of  the  ocean  westward  of  a line  drawn 
from  one  pole  to  the  other.” 

The  grand  old  man  then  passed  to  the  use  of  the  revenues 
secured  to  him  by  his  treaty  with  Ferdinand  and  Isabella. 
Wisely  and  liberally,  he  distributed  the  millions  which  of 
right  were  his  between  his  son  Don  James  and  his  brother 
Don  Bartholomew.' 

Then  turning  a last  lingering  look  toward  that  dear  na- 
tive land,  which  no  adopted  country  can  ever  blot  from  the 
heart  of  man,  his  soul  yearned  towards  the  city  of  Genoa, 
wherein  the  home  of  his  fathers  had  already  crumbled  at 
the  touch  of  time,  but  in  which  there  still  dwelt  some  dis- 
tant relative,  like  an  old  root  clinging  to  the  sod  when  the 
forest  trunk  had  been  leveled.  “I  desire  my  son  James,” 
he  wrote,  “ always  to  maintain  in  the  city  of  Genoa  one 
member  of  our  family,  who  shall  reside  there  with  his  wife, 
and  to  see  that  the  allowance  made  to  him  is  liberal,  that 
he  may  live  in  a style  befitting  one  who  is  allied  to  us.  I 
desire  that  this  relation  retain  his  property  and  citizenship 
in  that  town,  for  it  was  there  that  I was  born,  and  it  was 
thence  I came.” 

“May  my  son,”  he  added,  with  that  chivalric  sentiment 
of  fealty  which  was  the  second  religion  of  those  times, 
“ may  my  son,  in  memory  of  me,  serve  the  King,  the  Queen, 
and  their  successors,  even  to  the  forfeiture  of  life  and  goods 
— since,  next  to  God,  it  was  they  who  supplied  me  with  the 
means  of  making  my  discoveries.” 

“It  is  true,”  he  went  on,  in  a tone  of  half-stifled  reproach, 
arising,  as  it  were,  from  the  depths  of  memory,  “ that  I came 
from  a long  distance  to  make  an  offering  of  them,  and  that  a 
tedious  length  of  time  passed  away  before  any  credit  was 
given  to  the  gift  I brought  their  Majesties;  but  that  was 
only  natural,  for  it  was  a mystery  to  all  the  world,  and 
could  only  be  regarded  at  first  incredulously.  For  that  very 
reason,  I ought  to  share  my  triumphs  with  those  Sovereigns 
who  were  the  first  to  trust  my  word.” 


• Don  James,  the  Admiral’s  son,  states  that  he  was  charged  to  pay  the  devoted  Beatrix  10,000 
Baravedies  a year. — Irving. 


CHRISTOPHER  COL  UMB  US. 


173 


This  historic  will  also  contained  many  legacies  for  the 
foundation  of  different  churches,  and  made  special  provis- 
ion for  the  realization  of  a grand  design  which  had  always 
occupied  his  thoughts — the  deliverance  of  the  Holy  Sepul- 
chre. Long  had  it  been  his  desire  to  undertake  a new  cru- 
sade; but,  unable  himself  to  raise  aloft  the  conquering  cross, 
he  directed  that  a part  of  his  revenues  should  be  annually 
reserved  in  St.  George’s  Bank  at  Genoa,  for  the  fulfillment 
of  his  cherished  design,  and  that  it  should  there  accumulate 
until  a sufficient  sum  was  raised  to  fit  out  any  army  of  cru- 
saders. He  solemnly  bound  his  heirs  to  interest  themselves 
personally  in  the  success  of  this  pious  enterprise.’ 

Having  thus  scrupulously  acquitted  himself  of  all  earthly 
duties,  Columbus  turned  his  thoughts  to  Heaven — that 
beautiful  Heaven  which  had  always  occupied  so  large  a part 
of  his  bright,  heroic  mind.  Agreeably  to  the  usage  of  the 
time  and  the  particular  inclination  of  his  piety,  he  put  on 
the  habit  of  the  Third  Order  of  St.  Francis.  He  then  made 
a last  humble  confession,  and  received  the  Holy  Viaticum. 
His  chains,  by  his  wishes,  were  to  descend  with  him  into  the 
tomb.  Mournfully  standing  around  his  bed  were  his  two 
sons,  his  officers,  some  friends,  and  a few  Franciscan  fathers; 
while  hourly  the  great  Admiral  of  the  Ocean  felt  him- 
self advancing  to  that  mysterious  port  which  opens  into 
eternity.  Full  of  faith,  and  hope,  and  love,  he  asked  for 
the  sacrament  of  Extreme  Unction  as  a preparation  for  this 
last  great  voyage — a voyage  in  which  the  peasant  who  has 
seen  but  the  little  district  around  his  home,  and  the  mighty 
travelers  in  thought  and  deed,  are  alike  to  find  themselves 
upon  the  unknown  waters  of  that  life  beyond  the  tomb.  * 
Looked  at  in  this  way,  what  a great  discoverer  each  of  us 
is  to  be ! 

The  dying  hero  was  able  to  join  in  the  prayers  that  were 
said  for  him,  and  answered  the  Franciscan  Father  who  read 
the  recommendation  for  the  departing  soul.  To  the  end, his 
wonderful  intellect  shone  out  clear  and  vigorous.  A true 


> For  the  text  of  this  will— perhaps  the  most  remarkable  ever  written— see  Ining's  " Life  and 
Voyages  of  Columbus,”  Vol.  3;  and  McGee's  ' Catholic  History  of  America,"  appendix. 


174 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


poet  by  nature,  as  we  have  seen  by  his  language  and  writings, 
he  clothed  the  last  aspiration  of  his  spirit  and  the  dying 
murmurs  of  his  lips  in  the  sacred  poesy  of  the  expiring  Re- 
deemer of  mankind,  “Into  thy  hands,  0 Lord!  I commend 
my  spirit.”  Thus  died  Christopher  Columbus,  the  saintly 
and  incomparable  man,  the  Catholic  discoverer  of  America, 
and  the  greatest  of  Admirals,  on  Ascension  Day,  the  20th  of 
May,  in  the  j^ear  1506.  He  was  about  seventy  years  of 
age.' 

Even  death  did  not  end  the  voyages  of  the  venerable  hero. 
His  body  was  first  deposited  in  the  Franciscan  convent  at 
Valladolid.  On  his  tomb  was  placed  the  inscription:  “A 
Castilia  y a Leon  Nuevo  Mundo  dio  Colon"''’ — To  Castile 
and  Leon  Columbus  gave  a New  AVorld.  His  remains  were 
afterwards  taken  to  the  Carthusian  convent  of  Seville. 
Nor  did  they  there  rest  long.  In  1536  they  were  removed 
to  Hispaniola, and  interred  in  the  Cathedral  of  San  Domingo; 
and  in  1795  they  were  conveyed  to  the  Cathedral  of  Havanna, 
where  they  now  repose.  And  there,  not  far  from  the  scenes 
of  his  many  toils,  and  dangers,  and  humiliations,  rest  the 


' We  will  disclose  the  profound  conviction  of  our  mind.  We  declare  before  God,  who  knows 
it,  and  before  men,  who  do  not  know  it,  that  Christopher  Columbus  was  a saint.  We  nse  the 
word  saint  in  as  far  as  it  is  permitted  the  submissiveness  of  a Catholic  to  employ  it,  as  a figure 
of  speech,  for  want  of  a more  exact  term  to  apply  to  a man  whom  the  Church  has  not  yet  canon- 
ized; for,  in  our  eyes,  nobody  until  then  is  a saint.  And  when  we  declare  with  full  conviction 
that  Columbus  was  a saint,  we  mean  to  say  that  the  messenger  of  the  Cross  is  found,  as  regards 
history,  in  the  position  of  a hero  of  the  Gospel,  and  of  a great  servant  of  the  Church,  upon  the 
merits  of  whom  the  Church  has  not  yet  pronounced.  Some  great  bishops,  martyrs,  and  founders 
of  religious  orders,  who  are  now  illustrious  canonized  saints,  have  remained,  for  a time,  in  an 
equal  situation,  awaiting  the  day  of  their  canonization. — Count  de  Lorgues. 

That  Columbus  was  a saint,  in  a less  strict  sense  of  the  word,  seems  to  be  fairly  certified  by  the 
careful  researches  of  Count  Roselly  de  Lorgues.  Whether  he  was  a saint  in  that  highest 
sense  which  is  meant  when  we  speak  of  formal  canonization,  must  be  determined  by  evidence 
of  another  order.  Pending  the  proof  of  miracles  wrought  after  his  death,  and  by  his  direct  inter- 
cession, and  pending  also  any  declaration  of  the  Church  in  his  cause,  we  can  only  say  that  the 
great  work  given  him  to  do,  his  own  deep  sense  of  a Divine  vocation,  his  life  worthy  of  that  high 
commission,  his  humble  readiness  to  ascribe  all  his  achievements  to  the  helping  hand  of  God, 
his  edifying  forgiveness  of  the  most  malignant  outrages,  his  childlike  trust  in  the  protection  of 
Heaven,  repaid,  as  we  have  seen,  by  the  standing  miracle  of  a special  Providence  visibly  exerted 
in  his  behalf,  and  carrying  him  safely  through  a thousand  dangers  in  long,  tempestuous  voyages, 
with  ships  scarcely  seaworthy  at  their  best,  but  still,  with  gaping  seams  and  teredo-pierced  planks, 
ever  keeping  above  water  till  land  was  reached,  and  then  falling  to  pieces  on  shore  ; his  wonder- 
ful predictions,  the  visions  in  which  he  himself  put  faith  ; above  all,  his  surpassing  tribulations 
patiently  endured,  and  his  death  in  deep  obscurity  and  contempt,  without  one  vindictive  word, 
certainly  favor  the  idea  that  Christopher  Columbus  is  a saint  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word.— 
Father  Knight,  S.  J. 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


175 


ashes  of  the  mighty  Conqueror  of  the  ocean  and  the  Re- 
vealer  of  the  globe.' 

The  life  of  Columbus  is  his  best  eulogy.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  holy,  heroic  and  wonderful  on  record. 

Like  everything  that  is  not  of  this  earth,  he  stands 
alone,  grand  and  mysterious.  The  dramatic  and  the 
poetic  enter  into  his  existence ; and  every  thing  that 
comes  in  contact  with  him  acquires  <iignity  or  confers 
distinction. 

His  virtues  were  as  shining  as  they  were  numerous.  How 
sublime  was  his  faith ! Everything  was  done  in  the  name 
of  God.  All  his  great  enterprises  were  undertaken  by 
invoking  the  Most  Holy  Trinity.  When  his  genius  dis- 
covered a new  land,  he  raised  his  voice  and  his  heart  in  praise 
and  gratitude  to  Heaven.  For  him  the  star  of  hope  shone 
with  a celestial  brilliancy  unseen  by  common  eyes.  It  never 
set.  His  charity  was  exhaustless.  Piety  held  the  first 
jtlace  in  his  bright,  unequaled  mind,  and  all  else  came  after. 
Religion  mingled  with  the  whole  course  of  his  thoughts  and 
actions,  and  shone  forth  in  his  most  private  and  unstudied 
writings.  It  crowned  the  lofty  integrity  of  his  manly  char- 
acter. 

A Catholic  of  Catholics,  if  he  -desii’ed  to  open  the  way 
to  unknown  continents,  and  to  raise  large  sums  of  money, 
it  was  not  through  any  motive  of  grasping  selfishness.  Be- 
fore St.  Ignatius  adopted  the  maxim,  Ad  majorein  Dei 
gloriam,  Columbus  put  it  in  practice.  To  carry  the  light  of 
the  Gospel  to  the  heathen,  to  connect  the  ends  of  the  earth 
for  the  glory  of  God,  to  rescue  the  Holy  Sepulchre  from 
the  hands  of  the  infidel  Turk — such  were  the  lofty  mo- 
tives that  guided  his  life’s  labors.  Nor  was  he  simply  a 
saintly  hero  and  a great  Admiral.  Though  a layman,  he 
was  one  of  the  greatest  of  missionaries.  His  discoveries 
opened  Heaven  to  millions  of  souls.  This  messenger  of  the 
Cross  rivals  the  most  illustrious  of  the  saints  in  being  the 


• Not  long  ago  the  newspapers  described  the  finding  of  the  remains  of  Colnmbus  in  the  Cathe- 
dral of  San  Domingo.  There  is  no  truth  in  such  reports.  His  ashes  rest  at  Havana.  See  Col- 
meiro's  recently  published  monograph,  Los  Restos  de  Colon. 


176 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


means  of  unlocking  the  portals  of  Paradise  to  countless 
multitudes. 

Who  shall  we  name  braver  than  the  immortal  Discoverer 
of  America  1 His  victories,  like  his  life,  stand  alone  in  his- 
tory. By  his  dauntless  spirit,  the  unaided  force  of  his  ge- 
nius, and  the  blessing  of  Heaven,  he  rose  superior  to  every 
danger  and  every  difficulty.  With  him  originated  the  convic- 
tion that  the  Atlantic  coaid  be  made  a pathway  to  the  In- 
dies ; and  in  spite  of  bitter  opposition  and  the  most  heart- 
less persecution,  he  succeeded  in  impressing  the  truth  of  his 
idea  upon  others.  His  poverty  made  the  aid  of  a rich  pa- 
tron essential  to  the  carrying  out  of  his  vast  projects.  He 
despaired  not  when  all  seemed  hopeless.  With  unheard-of 
energy  and  matchless  perseverance,  he  toiled  for  nearly  a 
fifth  of  a century  before  he  could  obtain  even  a successful 
hearing  His  hair  was  white  at  thirty,  from  deep  reflection 
on  the  subject  of  discovery.  For  years  he  grandly  bore  up 
against  scorn,  delay,  poverty,  and  vile  contempt;  and  Anally, 
battling  with  man  and  tempest,  he  triumphed  over  the  terrors 
of  the  vast  and  gloomy  ocean ! He  was  fifty-seven  when  he 
planted  the  Cross  on  the  wild  shores  of  San  Salvador.  But 
never  for  a moment  was  he  deserted  by  sublime  courage 
and  magnanimity  of  soul.  On  no  occasion  do  we  see  him 
descend  to  hankerings  for  earthly  glory,  or  yield  to  any  am- 
bition for  popularity,  or  truckle  for  the  favors  of  the  Spanish 
Court.  His  Christian  dignity  stood  far  above  all  those 
things.  His  noble  forbearance  in  the  wrongs,  and  insults, 
and  countless  injuries  heaped  on  his  declining  years  reveals 
a rounded  character  of  crystal  beauty  and  unrivaled  gran- 
deur. 

How  shall  we  define  true  greatness?  By  what  standard 
can  we  judge  men  so  as  to  be  able,  with  some  justice  and 
precision,  to  point  out  the  greatest?  It  may  be  safely 
asserted  that  he  is  the  greatest  man  to  whom  the  world  is 
most  indebted.  Measured  by  his  achievements  and  their 
results,  Christopher  Columbus,  we  venture  to  assert,  stands 
first  on  the  roll  of  the  truly  great,  heading  the  list  of  the 
most  illustrious  men  of  all  time.  Compared  with  this 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


177 


Catholic  hero,  what  are  Alexander,  Hannibal,  Csesar,  and 
Napoleon?  What  does  the  world  owe. them?  For  what  are 
we  Americans  indebted  to  them  ? How  different  from  Co- 
lumbus ! To  him  science,  commerce  and  religion  owe  more 
than  to  any  other  man.  The  New  World  reveres  him  as  its 
discoverer.  The  Catholic  Church  recognizes  in  him  one  of 
her  great  and  holy  sons.  In  short,  viewing  his  unparalleled 
achievements  and  their  boundless  results,  the  whole  earth 
and  all  mankind  are  his  debtors.  His  beautiful  character 
transcends  praise,  as  his  heroic  deeds  baffle  description  ; and 
as  there  is  but  one  America  on  the  map  of  the  world,  so 
there  is  but  one  Columbus  among  the  sons  of  men. ' 


• An  account  of  several  miracles  indirectly  attributable  to  the  discoverer  of  America  is  given 
by  the  Count  de  Lorgues  in  his  “ Chrlstophe  Colomb.”  The  following  relates  to  a cross  which 
he  erected  in  Hispaniola,  at  Fort  Conception: 

At  the  beginning  of  April,  1495,  Columbus  \'i8ited  for  the  second  time  the  Royal  Plain,  where 
the  year  before  he  had  paused  in  admiration,  blessing  God  aloud  in  the  presence  of  his  soldiers, 
and  thanking  Him  for  making  known  a land  so  beautiful.  After  the  submission  of  Guarlonex, 
th*  chief  of  that  part  of  the  country,  the  Admiral  had  received,  in  the  terms  of  the  treaty,  author- 
ity to  construct  a fort  at  the  entrance  to  this  magnificent  region.  Wishing  to  pay  honor  to  the 
sign  of  salvation  in  this  charming  place,  he  ordered  the  mate,  Alonzo  de  Valencia,  to  take  a troop 
of  tiventy  men,  and  with  this  escort,  consisting  principally  of  sailors  and  carpenters,  to  cut  down 
a fine  tree  which  he  had  marked  for  making  a Cross.  The  trunk,  cut  square,  formed  the  shaft, 
and  the  largest  ot  the  boughs  was  laid  transversely  for  the  arms.  It  may  have  been  eighteen  or 
twenty  palms  in  height.  This  great  Cross,  conspicuously  tall,  was  erected  by  the  Admiral  on  a 
hill  at  the  base  of  the  mountains,  from  which  might  be  seen  over  an  immense  expanse  the  most 
superb  view  of  this  superb  plain 

During  the  prosecution  of  the  works,  having  no  priest  or  church  at  hand,  he  made  his  daily 
prayer  before  this  Cross.  He  there  assembled,  morning  and  evening,  the  workmen  and  soldiers. 
He  said  his  office  regularly  beside  the  sacred  symbol Fort  Conception  is  that  spot  in  His- 
paniola where  he  spent  the  longest  time Moreover,  he  wished  to  sanctify  this  priiuleged 

place  by  building  a church  for  the  daily  celebration  of  three  Masses 

When  the  revealer  of  the  globe,  in  reward  of  his  discoveries,  had  been  tom  from  his  govern- 
ment, loaded  with  chains,  sent  to  Spain,  the  Spaniards,  following  bis  example,  continued  to  as- 
semble there  to  say  their  prayers  standing.  One  day  the  Cross,  invoked  with  honest  faith, wrought 
a miracle.  Some  persons  were  cured  of  a fever  by  touching  it.  Other  sufferers  were  attracted  to 
it,  and  recommended  themselves  earnestly  to  God.  Many  of  them  were  cured.  The  Cross  was 
called  the  Trve  Cross,  for  it  was  distinguished  by  working  miracles. 

The  name  and  the  worders  of  the  TVt/e  Cross  were  noised  abroad.  The  Indians,  oppressed  by 
the  Spaniards  after  Bobadilla’s  assumption  of  office,  haiing  observed  the  respect  paid  by  their 
masters  to  the  sacred  sjunbol,  determined  to  destroy  it.  They  came  in  force  to  the  assault,  and 
fastening  strong  cords  of  twisted  fibre  to  the  shaft  of  the  Cross,  tried  to  pull  it  down;  but  in  spite 
of  their  numbers  ail  their  efforts  were  unavailing.  The  Cross  defied  their  strength  and  stood 
immovable.  DiscoYitented  by  their  ill-success,  they  tried  to  reduce  it  to  ashes.  Gathering  large 
heaps  of  dry  brushwood,  they  surrounded  them  at  night  with  faggots  of  inflammable  material  to 
a great  height  and  set  them  on  fire.  The  flames  broke  out  with  violence.  The  cross  soon  disap- 
peared in  fire  and  smoke.  The  idolaters  ivith  their  priests,  the  Bohutis,  retired  well  pleased.  But 
next  morning  they  saw  the  Cross  standing  in  perfect  preservation  amid  the  smoking  heaps.  Not 
even  the  color  of  the  wood  was  changed,  except  that  at  the  foot  it  w’as  slightly  blackened,  as  if  a 
Hghted  candle  had  been  applied  to  it. 

Deterred  and  dismayed  by  this  miraculous  manifestation,  they  fled  trembling,  and  afraid  that 


178 


CHRISTOPHER  COLUMBUS. 


they  had  incurred  the  resentment  of  the  Cross,  which  they  were  persuaded  came  from  Heaven. 
Nevertheless  the  vindictive  violence  of  their  Bokutis  made  them  return  to  the  attack,  to  try  to  cot 
it  down  with  their  hatchets  of  sharpened  stone  and  the  knives  which  had  been  procured  by  ex- 
change from  the  Spaniards.  The  wood  offered  an  unusual  resistance,  and  they  observed  that  the 
moment  they  had  chipped  off  a fragment  the  cavity  was  filled  in  immediately,  and  their  work  had 
to  recommence.  Their  frantic  obstinacy  gave  way  before  this  new  wonder.  Bethinking  them- 
selves that  their  united  strength  had  been  unable  not  only  to  pull  down  the  Cross,  but  even  to 
move  it,  and  seeing  the  Christians  paying  reverence  to  it,  they  from  that  time  prostrated  them- 
selves before  it. 

To  these  prodigies  was  added  another,  permanent  aud  seen  by  all,  which  became  each  year  a 
greater  subject  of  astonishment,  namely,  the  complete  preservation  of  the  wood,  which,  without 
any  coating  of  tar  or  chemical  application  of  any  kind,  defied  the  damp  and  the  heat,  which  in 
that  climate  produce  rapid  decay.  The  Cross  was  not  fissured  or  warped  or  worm-eaten.  It 
might  have  been  just  set  up.  Fifty-eight  years  after  it  had  been  erected  it  was  as  perfect  as  the 
first  day.  Another  wonderful  effect  made  a deep  impression  upon  the  people  of  that  part,  and  it 
was  to  see  the  Cross  standing  safe,  untouched  by  hurricanes  and  whirlwinds,  which  had  tom  from 
their  place  and  flung  down  to  the  earth  trees  and  houses  all  aronnd. 

The  miracles  increased  in  number  and  notoriety.  Oviedo,  who  was  Governor  of  San  Domingo, 
though  hostile,  as  we  have  seen,  to  Columbus,  attests  that  the  miraculous  Cross, which  at  the  time 
he  wrote,  1535,  was  standing  inside  the  Cathedral,  had  been  erected  by  Columbus  himself  at  Fort 
Conception. 

In  1553  the  Cathedral  was  blown  down  tn  a hurricane,  the  chapel  of  the  Trus  Cross  alone  es- 
caping. The  whole  town  was  a heap  of  rains,  except  the  Franciscan  convent;  but  many  of  the 
inhabitants  had  in  their  houses  or  on  their  persons  a relic  of  the  True  Cross,  and  of  these  not 
one  was  injured.  The  population  had  to  seek  another  home,  and  the  Cross  is  heard  of  no  more. 
Rome  had  never  publicly  sanctioned  the  devotion  to  this  True  Cross,  but  an  all-suflicient  reason 
would  seem  to  be  the  desire  to  avoid  all  clashing  with  the  more  ancient  claims  of  a far  holier 
Tkub  Cboss.  The  miraculous  cares  seem  well  certified.— Knight's  trar^latitn. 


ALONZO  DE  OjfeDA, 

THE  WARRIOR  PROTfiofe  OF  THE  BLESSED  VIRGIN.* 


CHAPTER  1. 

THE  YOUNG  CAVALIER, 

Youth  of  Ojeda — Spain  in  the  fifteenth  century— A reck- 
less feat — Description  of  our  hero — A famous  painting 
— Adventure  in  Guadaloupe — Exploring  Hispaniola — 
Siege  of  Fort  St.  Thomas  — Taking  Caonaho  prisoner — 
Battle  of  the  Royal  Plain — Ojeda  returns  to  Spain. 

We  no  sooner  mention  the  name  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda, than 
imagination  outlines  the  figure  of  a famous  cavalier  whose 
brave  heart  and  chivalrous  nature  were  strangers  alike  to 
fear  and  malice.  He  belonged  to  a respectable  family,  and 
was  born  at  Cuenca,  in  Spain,  about  the  year  1465.  Alonzo 
was  brought  up  as  a page  in  the  service  of  the  Duke  of 
Medina. 

Catholic  and  Moor,  in  those  days,  met  in  fierce  conflict. 
Spain  was  like  one  vast  school  of  war.  It  was  a last  life 
and  death  struggle  between  the  Cross  and  the  Crescent,  in 
the  land  of  Isabella.  The  youth  were  trained  to  arms  and 
hardy  exercise;  and  every  princely  household  was  a mil- 
itary establishment.  In  such  a school  was  Ojeda,  formed, 
his  daring  character  and  iron  constitution  increasing  with  his 
years. 

The  very  first  notice  we  have  of  him  is  a reckless  feat  per- 


* Chief  aathorities  need:  Ining,  “ The  Lives  and  Voyages  of  the  Companions  of  Columbus;  'J 
Irving,  *■  The  Life  and  Voyages  of  Christopher  Columbus;  ” Robertson,  “ History  of  America; " 
and  several  other  works  of  less  importance. 


179 


180 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA 


formed  in  the  presence  of  Isabella  the  Catholic,  on  the 
Moorish  tower  of  the  Cathedral  of  Seville.  Though  a tri- 
fling incident,  it  gives  us  a glimpse  at  the  peculiar  character 
of  the  man.  At  an  immense  height  from  the  ground  a great 
beam  projected  about  twenty  feet  from  the  tower.  The 
bold  Ojeda,  wishing  to  amuse  the  Queen,  walked  along  this 
beam  with  as  much  confldence  as  if  he  were  moving  across 
his  chamber.  Arriving  at  the  end,  he  stood  upon  one  leg, 
and  raised  the  other  in  the  air ; then,  nimbly  turning,  he 
walked  back  to  the  tower,  placed  one  foot  against  it,  and 
threw  an  orange  to  the  summit.  This,  remarks  Las  Casas, 
was  a proof  of  wonderful  muscular  strength.  Throughout 
all  this  exploit,  the  least  giddiness  or  false  step  would  have 
cost  him  his  life.  A fall  to  the  earth  would  have  dashed 
him  to  pieces. 

Ojeda  had  a cousin-german  of  his  own  name,  a distin- 
guished Dominican,  Father  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  who  was  in  high 
favor  at  the  Spanish  Court,  and  a particular  friend  of  Bishop 
Fonseca.  Through  the  good  ofiices  of  the  priest,  the  young 
cavalier  was  introduced  to  the  powerful  Bishoj).  At  once 
he  became  such  a favorite  that  the  prelate  made  him  a pres- 
ent of  a little  Flemish  painting  of  the  most  holy  Virgin. 
This  picture  rises  to  fame  in  the  story  of  his  adventurous 
career ; for  he  was  pious,  and  dearly  loved  the  Immaculate 
Mother,  and  to  her  “ especial  care, ” says  Irving,  “he  attrib- 
uted the  remarkable  circumstance  that  he  had  never  been 
wounded  in  any  of  the  innumerable  brawls  and  battles  into 
which  he  was  continually  betrayed  by  his  rash  and  fiery 
temperament.” 

Among  the  noted  ones  who  joined  the  second  voyage  of 
Columbus,  we  find  the  name  of  Alonzo  de  Ojeda.  He  is 
then  described  as  a young  cavalier  of  about  twenty-eight 
yeai's  of  age,  ’ small  in  stature,  but  well  made,  and  of  such  in 
credible  strength  and  agility,  that  he  seemed  a human  con- 
densation of  muscular  power.  A daring  eye  lit  up  his  dark, 
handsome  and  expressive  countenance.  He  was  an  admira- 


> Ir.ing  eays  “about  twenty-one  years  of  age,”  but  he  does  not  give  the  date  of  Ojeda's  birth. 
After  some  research,  we  think  the  above  is  nearer  the  truth 


ALONZO  BE  OJSDA. 


181 


ble  horseman,  and  possessed  unmatched  skill  in  handling 
all  kinds  of  weapons.  Bold  of  heart,  free  of  spirit,  open  of 
hand,  fierce  in  fight,  quick  in  quarrel,  but  ever  ready  to 
forget  and  forgive  an  injury,  he  was  destined,  for  a long 
time,  to  be  the  admiration  of  the  wild  and  roving  youth  who 
flocked  to  the  New  World.’ 

His  first  exploit  in  America  was  performed  in  Guadaloupe, 
one  of  the  Leeward  Islands.  It  has  been  already  referred  to 
in  the  life  of  Columbus.  While  stopping  at  Guadaloupe  on 
his  second  voyage,  the  Admiral  was  sorely  annoyed  one 
evening  at  finding  that  a captain  and  eight  men  had  strayed 
into  the  dense  woods,  and,  as  they  did  not  return,  had  prob- 
ably got  lost.  Next  day  Ojeda  volunteered  to  hunt  them 
up.  With  a party  of  forty  men  he  set  off  into  the  interior 
of  this  abode  of  cannibals,  berting  up  the  forests,  and 
making  the  mountains  and  vaP.jys  resound  with  trumpets 
and  fire-arms.  In  spite  of  a long  and  toilsome  search,  how- 
ever, he  was  obliged  to  return  without  the  stragglers. 

When  Columbus  arrived  in  Hispaniola,  one  of  his  first 
designs  was  tc  have  the  interior  of  the  island  explored.  He 
had  heard  from  the  natives  of  a rich  region  called  Cibao, 
whose  famous  cacique  was  Caondbo,  or  the  “Lord  of  the 
Golden  House.”  Ojeda  was  chosen  to  lead  this  enterprise. 
Early  in  January,  1494,  he  set  out  with  a small  band  of  de- 
termined followers.  He  struck  into  the  interior  on  his  toil- 
some march.  Not  an  Indian  was  seen.  Terror  had  given 
fleetness  to  their  legs. 

On  the  evening  of  the  second  day  the  Spaniards  came  to  a , 
lofty  mountain  range.  Ascending,  they  passed  the  night  on 
the  summit.  When  morning  came  the  sun  revealed  a sight 
glorious  and  picturesque.  Vast  plains,  noble  forests,  auI- 
lages  and  shining  waters  met  the  astonished  gaze  of  Ojeda 
and  his  men. 

llie  Spaniards  passed  down  the  mountain-side,  and  en- 
tered the  Indian  towns.  Hospitality  was  showered  on  the 
newcomers.  Five  or  six  days  more  were  spent  in  reaching 
the  chain  of  hills  that  guarded,  so  to  speak,  the  golden  land 


> Irrtng. 


182 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


of  Cibao.  They  entered  the  famed  territory,  nor  did  any- 
thing appear  to  dispute  their  progress.  The  ferocious 
Caonabo  was  very  probably  in  some  distant  part  of  his 
dominions. 

Ojeda  and  his  adventurous  companions  saw  ample  signs 
of  natural  wealth.  The  sands  of  the  mountain  streams  glit- 
tered with  particles  of  gold,  these  the  natives  would  skill- 
fully separate,  and  give  to  the  Spaniards,  without  expecting 
any  recompense  In  some  places  they  picked  up  large 
specimens  of  virgin  ore  from  the  bed  of  the  torrents,  and 
stones  streaked  and  richly  impregnated  with  it.  Peter 
Martyr  affirms  that  he  saw  a mass  of  rude  gold  weighing 
nine  ounces,  which  Ojeda  himself  had  found  in  one  of  the 
brooks.  The  object  of  the  expedition  was  now  attained,  and 
all  returned  to  Columbus  with  glowing  accounts  of  what 
they  had  seen. 

Some  time  after  this,  Ojeda  was  appointed  commander  of 
Fort  St.  Thomas,  where  he  was  to  succeed  Peter  Ma^garite. 
He  set  out  for  that  station  at  the  head  of  about  four  hun- 
dred men,  sixteen  of  whom  were  horsemen.  When  he 
reached  the  Royal  Plain,  he  learned  that  three  Spaniards 
had  been  robbed  of  their  effects  by  some  Indians  whe  had 
undertaken  to  carry  them  across  a river  At  the  same  time, 
he  heard  that  the  delinquents  had  been  sheltered  by  their 
cacique,  who  shared  the  booty.  Ojeda  was  a soldier  of 
quick  temper,  and  had  a rather  summary  mode  of  dispens- 
ing justice.  He  seized  one  of  the  thieves,  ordered  his  ears 
• to  be  cut  off  in  the  public  square  of  the  village ; and  be 
sent  the  offending  cacique,  together  with  his  son  and  nephew, 
in  chains  to  the  Admiral. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  Spaniards  were  made  aware 
that  their  most  formidable  enemy  was  Caonabo,  the  fierce 
cacique  of  the  golden  mountains.  Enraged  at  seeing  Fort 
St.  Thomas  erected  in  the  very  centre  of  his  dominions, 
and  finding  by  his  spies  that  the  garrison  was  reduced  to 
' fifty  men,  he  thought  to  strike  a signal  blow,  and  to  repeat 


Iiring. 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


183 


the  horrors  which  he  had  formerly  wreaked  upon  La 
Navidad.' 

The  wily  cacique,  however  had  an  able  enemy  to  deal  with 
in  Alonzo  de  Ojeda.  The  cavalier’s  long  schooling  in  the  Moor- 
ish wars,  and  his  deep  knowledge  of  military  stratagems,  now 
served  him  well.  Besides,  piety  heightened  his  courage.  In 
truth,  he  feared  no  danger,  for  he  considered  himself  always 
under  the  special  protection  of  the  most  holy  Virgin.  He 
constantly  carried  her  picture  in  his  knapsack,  and  would 
often  take  it  out  and  fix  it  against  a tree , and  there  on  his 
knees,  Avith  tears  in  his  eyes  and  love  in  his  heart,  the  fear- 
less soldier  would  pour  forth  his  devotions  to  his  Heavenly 
Patroness.  He  invoked  her  aid  in  battle,  and  under  her  pro- 
tection he  was  ready  for  any  enterprise. 

Caonabo  assembled  10,00J  w'arriors  and  led  them  secretly 
through  the  forest,  thinking  to  surprise  Ojeda ; but  he  found 
the  Spanish  commander  carefully  drawn  up  Avithin  his  for- 
tress, which  was  built  upon  a hill,  and  nearly  surrounded  by 
a river  ’ The  warlike  cacique  pressed  on  the  siege  for 
thirty  days,  and  reduced  the  Spaniards  to  great  distress. 
He  lost  many  of  his  bravest  warriors,  however,  by  the  bold 
sallies  of  Ojeda ; and,  in  the  end,  he  was  glad  to  relinquish 
the  siege.  Caonabo  retired,  filled  with  admiration  at  the 
prowess  of  him  who  carried  a painting  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
in  his  knapsack.^ 

It  soon  became  clear  to  Columbus  that  it  would  be  vain 
to  think  of  extending  settlements  in  Hispaniola  so  long  as 
the  fierce  Caonabo  retained  his  poAA'er  and  his  hostile  attitude. 
To  make  war  on  the  savage  ruler  of  Cibao,  hoAveA^er,  in 
the  midst  of  his  mountain  fastnesses  would  certainly  be  a 
work  of  time  and  peril.  The  Admiral  Avas  perplexed. 


• It  will  be  remembered  that  it  was  Caonabo  who  destroyed  La  Naridad— the  little  fortress  in 
which  Columbus  had  left  thirty-eight  men  on  his  first  voyage. 

’ Traces  of  the  old  fortress  of  St.  Thoma.'j  stfli  exist.  . . . The  square  occupied  by  the  fort  is 
BOW  completely  covered  with  forest  trees. — Ircing. 

* During  the  siege  Ojeda  displayed  the  greatest  activity  of  spirit  and  fertility  of  resource.  He 
baffled  all  the  arts  of  the  Carib  chieftain,  concerting  stratagems  of  various  kinds  to  relieve  the 
garrison  and  annoy  the  foe.  He  sallied  forth  whenever  the  enemy  appeared  in  any  force,  leading 
the  van  with  that  headlong  valor  for  which  he  was  noted,  making  great  slaughter  with  his 
single  arm,  and,  as  usual,  escaping  unhurt  from  amidst  showers  of  darts  and  arrows.— /mn^. 


184 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


Ojeda  heard  of  the  difficulty,  and,  following  the  bent  of  hi» 
daring  nature,  he  at  once  offered  his  services.  Singular  as 
it  may  appear,  he  promised  to  bring  the  Carib  chieftain 
alive,  and  place  him  in  the  hands  of  the  Discoverer  of 
America. 

Choosing  ten  bold  and  hardy  followers,  well  armed  and 
well  mounted,  and  invoking  the  protection  of  his  Patroness, 
the  Holy  Virgin,  whose  image  as  usual  he  bore  with  him  as 
a safeguard,  Ojeda  plunged  into  the  forest,  and  made  his 
way  above  sixty  leagues  into  the  wild  territories  of  Cao- 
nabo,  whom  he  found  in  one  of  his  most  populous  towns,  the 
same  now  called  Maguana,  near  the  town  of  San  Juan.  Ap- 
proaching the  cacique  with  great  deference  as  a sovereign 
prince,  he  professed  to  come  on  a friendly  embassy  from  the 
Admiral,  who  was  chief  of  the  Spaniards,  and  who  had  sent 
him  an  invaluable  present. 

Caonabo  had  tried  Ojeda  in  battle;  he  had  witnessed  his 
fiery  prowess,  and  conceived  a warrior’ s admiration  of  him. 
He  received  him  with  a degree  of  chivalrous  courtesy,  if 
such  a phrase  may  apply  to  the  savage  state  and  rude  hos- 
pitality of  a wild  warrior  of  the  forest.  The  free,  fearless 
deportment,  the  great  personal  strength,  and  the  surprising 
agility  and  adroitness  of  Ojeda  in  all  manly  exercises, 
and  in  the  use  of  all  kinds  of  weapons,  were  calculated  to 
delight  a savage,  and  he  soon  became  a great  favorite  with 
Caonabo. 

Ojeda  now  used  all  his  influence  to  prevail  upon  the 
cacique  to  repair  to  Isabella*  for  the  purpose  of  making  a 
treaty  with  Columbus,  and  becoming  an  ally  and  friend  of 
the  Spaniards.  It  is  said  that  he  offered  him  as  a lure  the 
bell  of  the  chapel  of  Isabella.  This  bell  was  the  wonder  of 
the  island.  When  the  Indians  heard  it  ringing  for  Mass, 
and  beheld  the  Spaniards  hastening  towards  the  chapel,  they 
imagined  that  it  talked,  and  that  the  white  men  obeyed  it. 
Regarding  with  superstition  all  things  connected  with  the 
Spaniards,  they  looked  upon  this  bell  as  something  super- 


* The  new  town  founded  by  Colamhna. 


OJEDA  CUTTING  HIS  WAY  THROUGH  THE  INDIAN  RANKS 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


185 


natural,  and,  in  their  usual  phrase,  said  it  had  come  from 
Turey,  or  the  skies.  Caonabo  had  heard  the  bell  at  a dis- 
tance, in  his  prowlings  about  the  settlement,  and  had  longed 
to  see  it;  but  when  it  was  proffered  to  him  as  a present  of 
peace,  he  found  it  impossible  to  resist  the  temptation ! 

He  agreed,  therefore,  to  set  out  for  Isabella;  but  when  the 
time  came  to  depart,  Ojeda  beheld  with  surprise  a powerful 
force  of  warriors  assembled  and  ready  to  march.  He  asked 
the  meaning  of  taking  such  an  army  on  a friendly  visit;  the 
cacique  proudly  replied  that  it  did  not  befit  a great  prince 
like  himself  to  go  forth  scantily  attended. 

Ojeda  was  little  satisfied  with  this  reply;  he  knew  the  war- 
like character  of  Caonabo,  and  his  deep  subtlety;  he  feared 
some  sinister  design;  a surprise  of  the  fortress  of  Isabella, 
or  even  an  attempt  upon  the  person  of  the  Admiral.  He 
knew  also  that  it  was  the  wish  of  Columbus  either  to  make 
peace  with  the  cacique,  or  to  get  possession  of  his  person 
without  the  alternative  of  open  warfare. 

He  had  recourse  to  a stratagem,  therefore,  which  has  an 
air  of  fable  and  romance,  but  which  is  recorded  by  all  con- 
temporary historians  with  trivial  variations,  and  which  Las 
Casas  assures  us  was  in  current  circulation  in  the  island 
when  he  arrived  there,  about  six  years  after  the  event.  It 
accords,  too,  with  the  bold,  adventurous  character  of  the  man, 
and  with  the  wild  stratagems  and  marvelous  exploits  inci- 
dent to  Indian  warfare. 

In  the  course  of  their  march,  having  halted  near  the  Little 
Yagin,  a considerable  branch  of  the  Neyba,  Ojeda  one  day 
produced  a set  of  manacles  of  polished  steel,  so  brightly 
burnished  that  they  looked  like  silver.  These,  he  assured 
Caonabo,  were  royal  ornaments  which  had  come  from  Heaven, 
or  the  Turey  of  Biscay;'  that  they  were  worn  by  the  mon- 
archs  of  Castile  on  solemn  dances  and  other  high  festivities, 
and  were  intended  as  presents  to  the  cacique.  He  proposed 
that  Caonabo  should  go  to  the  river  and  bathe,  after  which 
he  should  be  decorated  with  these  ornaments,  mounted  on 


■ Some  of  the  chief  iron  mannfactones  in  Spain  are  at  Biscay. 


186 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


the  horse  of  Ojeda,  and  should  return  in  the  state  of  a Span- 
ish monarch  to  his  astonished  subjects. 

The  cacique  was  dazzled  with  the  glitter  of  the  manacles 
and  flattered  with  the  idea  of  bestriding  one  of  those  tre- 
mendous animals  so  dreaded  by  his  countrymen.  He 
repaired  to  the  river,  and  having  bathed,  was  assisted  to 
mount  behind  Ojeda,  and  the  shackles  were  adjusted. 

Ojeda  made  several  circuits  to  gain  space,  followed  by  his 
little  band  of  horsemen,  the  Indians  shrinking  back  from 
the  prancing  steeds.  At  length  he  made  a wide  sweep  into 
the  forest,  until  the  trees  concealed  him  from  the  sight  of 
the  army.  His  followers  then  closed  around  him,  and 
drawing  their  swords,  threatened  Caonabo  with  instant 
death  if  he  made  the  least  noise  or  resistance.  Binding  him 
with  cords  to  Ojeda,  to  prevent  his  falling  or  effecting  an 
escape,  they  put  spurs  to  their  horses,  dashed  across  the 
river,  and  made  off  through  the  woods  with  their  prize. 

They  had  now  fifty  or  sixty  leagues  of  wilderness  to 
traverse  on  their  way  homewards,  with  here  and  there  large 
Indian  towns.  They  had  borne  off  their  captive  far  beyond 
the  pursuit  of  his  subjects;  but  the  utmost  vigilance  was 
requisite  to  prevent  his  escape  during  this  long  and  toilsome 
journey,  and  to  avoid  exciting  the  hostilities  of  any  confed- 
erate cacique.  They  had  to  shun  the  populous  parts  of  the 
country,  therefore,  or  to  pass  through  the  Indian  towns  at 
full  gallop. 

They  suffered  greatly  from  fatigue,  hunger  and  watchful- 
ness, encountering  many  perils,  fording  and  swimming  the 
numerous  rivers  of  -the  plains,  toiling  through  the  deep, 
tangled  forests,  and  clambering  over  the  high  and  rocky 
mountains.  They  accomplished  all  in  safety,  and  Ojeda 
entered  Isabella  in  triumph  from  this  most  daring  and  char- 
acteristic enterprise,  with  his  wild  Indian  bound  behind ! ‘ 

Columbus,  it  appears,  was  both  astonished  and  gratified 
when  he  beheld  the  fierce  Carib  ruler.  He  treated  Caonabo 
with  much  kindness  and  respect,  but,  for  the  peace  of  the 
island,  he  thought  it  better  to  send  the  chief  to  Spain  for 


> Irying. 


ALONZO  DE  OJEBA. 


187 


a time,  that  he  might  be  instructed  in  the  Catholic  religion. 

Caonabo  always  maintained  a haughty  deportment  towards 
the  illustrious  Discoverer  of  America,  while  he  never  evinced 
the  least  animosity  against  Ojeda.  He  rather  admired  the 
latter  as  a consummate  warrior,  for  having  pounced  upon 
him  and  borne  him  off  in  this  hawk-like  manner,  from  the 
very  midst  of  his  fighting-men.  When  Columbus  entered 
the  apartment  where  Caonabo  was  confined,  all  present  rose, 
according  to  custom,  and  paid  him  reverence;  the  cacique 
alone  neither  moved  or  took  any  notice  of  him.  On  the  con- 
trary, when  Ojeda  entered,  though  small  in  person  and  with- 
out external  state,  Caonabo  rose  and  saluted  him  with 
profound  respect. 

On  being  asked  the  reason  of  this,  Columbus  being  the  great 
chief  over  all,  and  Ojeda  but  one  of  his  subjects,  the  proud 
Carib  replied  that  “ the  Admiral  had  never  dared  to  come  per- 
sonally to  his  house  and  seize  him;  it  was  only  through  the 
valor  of  Ojeda  he  was  his  prisoner;  to  Ojeda,  therefore,  he 
owed  reverence — not  to  the  Admiral.”  ' 

We  next  catch  a glimpse  of  our  hero  in  the  battle  of  the 
Royal  Plain,  already  referred  to  in  the  life  of  Columbus. 
The  chief  caciques,  headed  by  the  brother  of  the  captured 
Caonabo,  had  formed  a powerful  combination.  Resolved  to 
make  a grand  assault  upon  the  Spanish  settlement,  they  as- 
sembled their  forces  in  the  Royal  Plain.  The  Admiral  de- 
termined to  meet  them,  though  he  could  muster  but  two 
hundred  and  twenty  men.  Twenty  of  these  were  cavalry. 
There  were  also  twenty  bloodhounds. 

With  this  force  the  Discoverer  of  America  sallied  forth 
from  Isabella,  accompanied  by  his  brother  Don  • Bartholo- 
mew and  Alonzo  de  Ojeda.  The  allied  Indians  in  the  Plain 
are  said  to  have  numbered  100,000,  armed  with  clubs,  stones, 
lances,  and  bows  and  arrows. 

The  plan  of  attack  was  arranged  by  Don  Bartholomew. 
Divided  into  small  detachments,  the  infantry  advanced  sud- 
denly from  various  quarters  with  great  din  of  Orums  and 
trumpets,  and  a deadly  volley  of  fire-arms.  Panic  seized 


* Irring. 


188 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


on  the  brave  but  terrified  savages.  A mighty  force  seemed 
moving  down  upon  them.  In  the  very  height  of  their 
confusion,  Ojeda  and  his  horsemen'  charged  furiously, 
trampling  them  under  foot  and  dealing  fatal  blows  with 
lance  and  sword.  The  bloodhounds  were  also  let  loose, 
and  rushing  upon  the  naked  Indians,  they  tore  them  in 
pieces.  It  was  a short  battle,  and  a complete  victory  for 
the  Spaniards. 

This  victory  was  followed  up  by  reducing  all  parts  of  the 
island  to  obedience.  Any  attempts  at  opposition  were 
speedily  checked.  Ojeda’s  troop  of  cavalry  was  of  great 
efficacy,  from  the  rapidity  of  its  movements,  the  active  in- 
trepidity of  its  commander,  and  the  terror  inspired  by  the 
horses.  There  was  no  service  too  wild  and  hazardous  for 
Ojeda.  If  any  appearance  of  war  arose  in  a distant  part  of 
the  country,  he  would  penetrate  with  his  little  squadron  of 
cavalry  through  the  depths  of  the  forests,  and  fall  like  a 
thunderbolt  upon  the  enemy,  disconcerting  all  their  combi- 
nations and  enforcing  implicit  submission." 

But  for  our  hero  the  scene  now  changes.  He  was  among 
those  who  sailed  with  Columbus  for  Spain  in  1496.  Three 
stirring  years  in  Hispaniola  had  greatly  enhanced  his  repu- 
tation as  a soldier  of  unrivaled  skill  and  matchless  bravery. 


> As  those  were  the  first  horses  which  appeared  in  the  New  World,  they  were  objects  of  terror 
no  less  than  of  admiration  to  the  Indians  who  having  no  tame  animals  themselves,  were  unac- 
quainted with  that  vast  accession  of  power  which  man  has  acquired  by  subjecting  them  to  his 
dominion.  They  supposed  them  to  be  rational  creatures.  They  imagined  that  the  horse  and  the 
rider  formed  me  animal,  with  whose  speed  they  were  astonished,  and  whose  impetuosity  and 
■trength  they  considered  as  irregistible.— .ffoierteo*. 

3 Irving. 


CHAPTER  n. 

ACEOSS  THE  ATLANTIC  AND  BACK. 

Ojeda  as  a navigator — Amerigo  Vespucci — Expedition  to 
South  America — A battle  with  the  cannibals — Explores 
the  coast  of  South  America — Makes  trouble  at  Hispan- 
iola— Returns  to  Spain. 

Ojeda  did  not  sail  with  Columbus  in  his  third  voyage. 
When,  however,  accounts  from  the  Admiral  reached  Spain, 
telling  of  Paria  and  its  pearl  coast,  a great  sensation  was 
produced.  It  increased  the  growing  spirit  of  adventure, 
and  none  cast  more  anxious  looks  towards  the  New  World 
than  the  conqueror  of  Caonabo.  His  desire  to  fit  out  an  ex- 
pedition himself  found  ready  encouragement  from  his  pa- 
tron, Bishop  Fonseca,  who,  as  will  be  remembered,  cared 
but  little  for  Columbus  and  his  rights. 

With  a commission  signed  by  Fonseca  in  his  pocket, 
Ojeda  looked  about  for  means  to  fit  out  a little  fleet.  A 
mere  soldier  of  fortune,  he  was  far  from  rich,  but  some 
wealthy  merchants  of  Seville  came  to  his  assistance,  and  in 
a short  while  he  found  himself  the  commander  of  a squadron 
of  four  vessels.  His  chief  associates  were  John  de  la  Cosa, 
an  old  disciple  of  Columbus  and  a very  skilled  navigator,  and 
Amerigo  Vespucci,  a merchant  of  Florence,  who  sought,  it 
seems,  in  the  New  World  for  that  fortune  which  he  had  not 
been  able  to  find  in  the  Old.  Whether  he  had  any  pecu- 
niary interest  in  the  expedition,  and  in  what  capacity  he 
sailed,  does  not  appear.  His  importance  has  entirely  arisen 
from  subsequent  circumstances — from  his  having  written 
and  published  a narrative  of  his  voyages,  and  from  his 
name  having  eventually  been  given  to  the  New  World.' 

* Irving. 

Amerigo  Vespucci,  a Florentine  gentleman,  accompanied  Ojeda  in  this  voyage.  In  wdat  station 
k*  served  is  nncertain;  but  as  he  was  an  experienced  sailor,  and  eminently  skillful  in  ah  the 


189 


I90 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


On  the  20th  of  May,  1499,  Ojeda  sailed  from  Port  St.  Mary, 
and  twenty- four  days  after  he  touched  South  America,  at  a 
point  about  two  hundred  leagues  south  of  the  Orinoco.'  He 
then  coasted  northwards.  At  a convenient  harbor  he  built 
a brigantine.  The  Indians  flocked  to  see  the  strangers,  aided 
them  in  every  way,  and  supplied  flsh,  venison,  and  cassava 
bread  in  abundance.  It  was  soon  found,  however,  that  they 
wished  to  gain  the  protection  of  the  Spaniards  against  the 
cannibals  of  the  Caribbee  islands,  who  often  invaded  their 
coasts  and  carried  off  people,  whom  they  afterwards  inhu- 
manly devoured. 

Ojeda  was  asked  to  attack  the  man-eaters,  and  he  could 
not  And  it  in  his  hardy  nature  to  refuse.  With  a number  of 
Indian  guides  he  sailed  for  seven  days  before  he  came  to  the 
habitation  of  this  unnatural  race.  The  shore  was  thronged 
with  hideously- painted  savages,  who  yelled  defiance.  They 
had  not  long  to  wait.  The  commander  ordered  out  his 
boats,  and  provided  each  with  a small  cannon.  Arrows  flew 
thick  and  swiftly  as  the  Spaniards  pulled  towards  the  shore. 
The  cannibals  even  dashed  into  the  water  to  meet  the  invad- 
ers. Ojeda  opened  fire.  The  savages  staggered  under  the 
destructive  punishment,  and  soon  took  to  their  heels.  When 
the  commander  and  his  men  leaped  ashore,  however,  the 


sciences  subserUent  to  navigation,  he  seems  to  have  acquired  snch  authority  among  his  compan- 
ions that  they  willingly  allowed  him  to  have  a chief  share  in  directing  their  operations  during 
the  voyage.  Soon  after  his  return  he  transmitted  an  account  of  his  adventures  and  discoveries  to 
one  of  his  countrymen;  and  laboring  v/i'h  the  vanity  of  a traveler  to  magnify  his  owm  exploits, 
he  had  the  address  and  confidence  to  frame  his  narrative  so  as  to  make  it  appear  that  he  had  the 
glory  of  having  discovered  the  continent  in  the  New  World.  Amerigo’s  account  was  drawn  up 
not  only  with  art,  but  with  elegance.  It  contained  an  amusing  history  of  his  voyage  and  judi- 
cious observations  upon  the  natural  productions,  the  inhabitants,  and  the  customs  of  the  coun- 
tries which  he  had  visited.  As  it  was  the  first  description  of  any  part  of  the  New  World  that 
was  published,  a performance  so  well  calculated  to  gratify  the  passion  of  mankind  for  what  is 
new  and  marvelous,  it  circulated  rapidly  and  was  read  with  admiration.  The  country  of  which 
Amerigo  was  supposed  to  be  the  discoverer  came  gradually  to  be  called  by  his  name.  The  caprice 
of  mankind,  often  as  unaccountable  as  unjust,  has  perpetuated  this  error.  By  the  universal  con- 
sent of  nations,  America  is  the  name  bestowed  on  this  new  quarter  of  the  globe.  The  bold  pre- 
tensions of  a fortunate  impostor  have  robbed  the  Discoverer  of  a New  World  of  a distinction 
which  belonged  to  him.  The  name  of  Amerigo  has  supplanted  that  of  Columbus;  and  mankind 
may  regret  an  act  of  injustice  which,  ha\’ing  received  the  sanction  of  time,  it  is  now  too  late  to 
redress. — Robertson . 

> On  this  expedition  Ojeda  pursued  the  route  of  Columbus  in  his  third  voyage,  being  guided  by 
the  chart  which  the  venerable  Admiral  had  sent  home,  as  well  as  by  the  mariners  who  had  accoa* 
panied  him  on  that  occasion. — Irving. 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


191 


Carib  warriors  rallied,  and  in  a short  time  it  became  a fierce 
hand-to-hand  conflict.  But  the  deep  and  deadly  blows  of 
the  Spaniards  told  on  the  wild  multitude,  and  at  the  point 
of  the  sword  the  man-eaters  were  finally  driven  to  the 
woods.  On  the  following  day  the  shore  swarmed  with  hos- 
tile Caribs,  naked,  armed,  and  painted.  Ojeda  again  landed 
with  flfty-seven  men,  and  rushing  on  the  savages,  he  routed 
them  with  fearful  slaughter.' 

After  allowing  his  crews  twenty  days  of  rest,  he  sailed  for 
the  mainland,  once  more  pushing  his  way  along  the  coasts. 
He  arrived  at  a vast,  deep  gulf,  resembling  a tranquil  lake; 
entering  which,  he  beheld  on  the  eastern  side  a village,  the 
construction  of  which  struck  him  with  surprise.  It  consisted 
of  twenty  large  houses,  shaped  like  bells,  and  built  on  piles 
driven  into  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  which  in  this  part  was  lim- 
pid and  of  but  little  depth.  Each  house  was  provided  with 
a drawbridge  and  with  canoes,  by  which  communication  was 
carried  on.  From  these  resemblances  to  the  Italian  city, 
OjMa  gave  the  bay  the  name  of  the  Gulf  of  Venice;''  and  it 
is  called  at  the  present  day  Venezuela,  or  Little  Venice.  The 
Indian  name  was  Coquibacoa.’ 

After  a number  of  adventures  at  this  village,  Ojeda  con- 
tinued to  explore  the  gulf.  He  gave  the  name  of  St.  Bar- 


• The  Caribs— or  inhabitants  of  the  Carihbee  island*— seem  to  have  been  a brutal  race,  quite 
distinct  from  the  other  Indians  of  the  West  Indies.  Their  ferocity  and  stupidity  were  nearly 
bonadless. 

An  acute  observer,  and  one  who  knew  them  well,  gave  the  following  description  over  a century 
ago:  It  is  not  the  red  color  of  their  complexion,  it  is  not  the  singularity  of  their  features 
which  constitutes  the  chief  difference  between  them  and  ns.  It  is  their  excessive  simplicity;  it 
is  the  limited  degree  of  their  faculties.  Their  reason  is  not  more  enlightened  or  more  provident 
than  the  instinct  of  brutes.  The  reason  of  the  most  gross  peasants,  that  of  tTie  negroes  brought 
up  in  the  parts  of  Africa  most  remote  from  intercourse  with  Europeans  is  such  that  we  discover 
appearances  of  intelligenee,  which,  though  imjterfect,  is  capable  of  increase.  But  of  this  the 
understanding  of  the  Caribs  seems  to  be  scarcely  susceptible.  And  if  sound  philosophy  and 
religion  did  not  afford  us  their  light,  if  we  were  to  decide  according  to  the  first  impression  which 
the  view  of  that  people  makes  upon  the  mind,  we  should  be  disposed  to  believe  that  they  do  not 
belong  to  the  same  species  with  ns.  Their  stupid  eye  is  the  true  mirror  of  their  souls;  it  appears 
to  be  without  functions.  Their  indolence  is  extreme.  Never  have  they  the  least  solicitude  about 
the  moment  which  is  to  succeed  that  which  is  present. — De  ChamaUm,  “Voyage  a la  Martinique." 

See  also  Robertson,  “ History  of  America,”  Note  46  ; and  Irving,  “ Life  and  Voyages  of 
Columbus,”  Vol.  I.  pp.  .309,  317. 

According  to  a late  writer  in  Johnson’s  “ New  Universal  Cyclopedia,”  remnants  of  the  Caribs 
exist  at  the  present  time  in  the  West  Indies,  Guiana,  Honduras,  and  near  Panama. 

• Now  the  Gulf  of  Maracaybo. 

• Irving. 


192 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


tholomew  to  a port  which  is  now  known  by  its  Indian  name 
— Maracaybo.  Here  the  Indians  treated  the  Spaniards  as 
angelic  beings,  heaped  upon  them  every  mark  of  kind- 
ness and  veneration.  A little  before  departing,  the  com- 
mander ordered  the  cannon  to  be  discharged,  at  the  sound 
of  which,  writes  Vespucci,  the  timid  savages  “plunged 
into  the  water  like  so  many  frogs  from  a bank.”  When 
they  saw,  however,  that  no  harm  was  done  their  fears  were 
dispelled. 

Bidding  adieu  to  this  friendly  port,  Ojeda  stood  along 
the  coast  until  he  came  to  Point  Gallinas,  where  the 
state  of  his  vessels  warned  him  that  all  further  projects 
of  discovery  or  exploration  must  be  abandoned.  He 
then  changed  his  course,  and  steered  for  Hispaniola. 
His  presence  in  that  island  both  surprised  and  displeased 
Columbus,  and  besides  was  contrary  to  the  tenor  of  his 
commission. 

The  Admiral  dispatched  Francis  Roldan,  a daring  and 
crafty  character  to  call  Ojeda  to  account.  Ojeda  promised 
to  visit  the  Admiral,  but  soon  forgot  his  promise  ; and,  hav- 
ing refitted  his  ships,  he  sailed  along  the  coast  until  he 
reached  one  of  the  settlements  in  which  discontent  against 
the  rule  of  Columbus  had  reached  a high  pitch.  Here  he 
stopped,  and,  it  is  said,  he  was  so  thoughtless  and  impru- 
dent as  to  express  his  sympathy  with  the  restless  spirits  and 
lawless  ruffianism  of  the  place.  But  the  keen  eye  of  the 
Admiral  descried  the  danger,  and  by  his  orders  Roldan  was 
again  on  the  track  of  Ojeda,  carefully  watching  his  move- 
ments. They  were,  indeed,  well  matched  opponents  ; but 
the  various  manoeuvres  by  which  they  tried  to  outwit  each 
other  are  too  many  and  trifling  for  these  pages.  It  must 
suffice  to  say  that  in  the  end  Ojeda  was  obliged  to  turn  his 
back  on  the  shores  of  Hispaniola,  his  visit  having  added  but 
little  to  his  reputation  as  a man  of  good  sense,  or  a soldier 
who  recognizes  the  virtue  of  justice. 

Ojeda  now  rambled  for  a time  in  the  neighboring  islands, 
seizing  and  carrying  off  a drove  of  the  natives.  He  resumed 
his  voyage,  and  sailed  into  Cadiz  in  June,  1500.  The  un- 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


198 


fortunate  Indians  were  sold  in  the  slave-markets,  and  the 
proceeds  divided  among  himself  and  his  followers.  Alto- 
gether, this  expedition  was  a failure.  It  accomplished  little 
or  nothing,  save  that  it  added  to  Ojeda’s  celebrity  as  a bold 
and  skillful  adventurer. 


CHAPTER  m. 

STIRRING  SCENES  AND  ADVENTURBi. 

Another  expedition  to  South  America — Trying  Ut  found  a 
colony  and  what  came  of  it — Ojeda  appointed  Gov- 
ernor of  New  Andalusia — Two  fleets — John  de  la  Cosa — 
An  aspiring  lawyer — The  two  rival  Governors — Again 
on  the  coast  of  ^uth  America — Battles  and  poisoned 
arrows — Death  of  the  brave  De  la  Cosa — Miraculous 
escape  of  Ojeda. 

Ojeda  was  now  the  popular  hero  of  the  day.  The  lowly 
regarded  him  with  wonder,  and  even  those  in  high  places 
paid  him  the  tribute  of  admiration.  Above  all,  Bishop  Fon- 
seca was  his  warm  friend. 

In  consideration  of  his  past  services  and  of  others  ex- 
pected from  him,  a grant  was  made  to  him  of  six  leagues  of 
land  in  the  southern  part  of  Hispaniola,  and  the  government 
of  the  Province  of  Coquibacoa,  which  he  had  discovered. 
He  was,  furthermore,  authorized  to  fit  out  any  number  of 
ships,  not  exceeding  ten,  at  his  own  expense,  and  to  prose- 
cute the  discovery  of  Terra  Firma.  He  was  not  to  touch  or 
traffic  on  the  pearl  coast  of  Paria,  extending  as  far  as  a bay 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  island  of  Margarita.  Beyond  this  he 
had  a right  to  trade  in  all  kinds  of  merchandise,  whether  of 
pearls,  jewels,  metals  or  precious  stones;  paying  one-fifth  of 
the  profits  to  the  Crown,  and  abstaining  from  making  slaves 
of  the  Indians  without  a special  license  from  the  Sovereigns. 
He  was  to  colonize  Coquibacoa,  and,  as  a recompense,  was 
to  enjoy  one-half  of  the  proceeds  of  his  territory,  provided 
the  half  did  not  exceed  300,000  maravedies.  AU  beyond 
that  amount  was  to  go  to  the  Crown.' 

No  sooner  was  this  commission  in  his  hand,  than  the  '^ver- 


* ming. 


194 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


195 


active  Ojeda  began  the  work  of  fitting  out  some  vessels. 
Two  friends  opened  their  purses,  and  in  a short  time  four 
ships  were  in  readiness.  The  expedition  set  sail  in  1502. 
Ojeda  and  his  little  squadron  reached  the  New  World  near 
the  mouth  of  the  Orinoco,  and  then  proceeded  along  what 
is  now  the  northern  coast  of  the  Republic  of  Venezuela, 
until  their  anchors  were  cast  in  the  port  of  Coquibacoa,  the 
destined  seat  of  government.  It  proved  to  be  a poor 
country. 

Governor  Ojeda  moved  further  along  the  coast,  to  a bay 
which  he  named  Santa  Cruz,  or  Holy  Cross.'  Here  he  re- 
solved to  form  his  settlement.  The  Indians,  however,  had 
not  been  consulted,  and  one  day,  as  a party  of  Spaniards 
landed  for  water,  a galling  shower  of  arrows  hastened  their 
return  to  the  ships.  This  annoyed  Ojeda.  He  landed  im- 
mediately with  all  his  men  and  gave  the  savages  such  a 
severe  thrashing  that  they  were  glad  to  obtain  peace  on  any 
terms 

W(5rk  now  began  in  earnest.  The  settlement  grew  and  a 
fortress  was  formed.  Provisions  were  dealt  out  twice  a day 
under  the  inspection  of  proper  officers  ; the  treasure  gained 
by  barter,  by  ransom,  or  in  any  other  way,  was  deposited 
in  a strong  box,  secured  by  two  locks,  one  key  being  kept 
by  the  Royal  Supervisor,  the  other  by  Garcia  de  Campos. ' 
But  three  evils  afflicted  the  infant  colony,  and  hastened  its 
destruction.  • Provisions  got  scarce.  The  Indians  became 
more  and  more  bitterly  hostile.  Disunion  appeared  in  the 
camp. 

The  Governor’s  bravery  exceeded  his  prudence.  In  sev- 
eral of  the  raids  which  he  led  on  the  Indian  villages,  he 
managed  to  collect  considerable  gold.  This  he  locked  in 
the  strong-box,  and  took  possession  of  the  keys.  De  Cam- 
pos and  the  Royal  Supervisor  were  much  displeased.  As 
want  increased,  the  murmurs  grew  louder  against  Ojeda, 
until  finally  the  two  wily  officials  seized  him,  put  him  in 
irons,  and  conveyed  him  on  shipboard.  The  strong-box  and 


• Supposed  to  be  the  present  Bahia  Honda. 

• De  Campos  was  one  of  the  two  who  paid  for  the  flttint'-oat  of  the  armament. 


196 


ALONZO  DE  OJ&DA. 


the  whole  colony  followed,  and  in  a few  days  the  ships  lay 
off  the  coast  of  Hispaniola. 

While  at  anchor,  within  a stone’s  throw  of  the  land,  Ojeda, 
confident  of  his  strength  and  skill  as  a swimmer,  let  himself 
quietly  slide  down  the  side  of  the  ship  into  the  water  during 
the  night,  and  attempted  to  swim  for  the  shore.  His  arms 
Were  free,  but  his  feet  were  shackled,  and  the  weight  of  his 
irons  threatened  to  sink  him.  He  was  obliged  to  shout  for 
help  ; a boat  was  sent  from  the  vessel  to  his  relief,  and.the 
unfortunate  Grovernor  was  brought  back  half  drowned  to 
his  unrelenting  partners.' 

The  matter  in  dispute  now  entered  the  Courts,  and  the 
Chief  Judge  of  Hispaniola  decided  against  Ojeda.  He  ap- 
pealed, however,  to  the  King,  and  was  honorably  acquitted 
by  the  Royal  Council.  Orders  were  given  to  restore  his 
property,  but  unhappily  there  was  little  to  restore.  The 
strong-box  was  empty.  The  conqueror  of  Caonabo  found 
himself  “a  triumphant  client,  but  a ruined  man.” 

For  some  years  we  lose  sight  of  Ojeda.  With  a light 
purse  and  an  untamed  spirit,  however,  we  find  him  in  His- 
paniola in  1508.  The  riches  of  the  Isthmus  of  Darien — 
discovered  by  Columbus  in  his  last  voyage — had  made  that 
region  famous.  King  Ferdinand  was  anxious  to  found 
colonies  along  the  favored  coast,  and  was  advised  to  select 
Ojeda  to  carry  out  his  designs.  But  the  latter  was  at  a 
distance  and  penniless.  Still  he  was  not  friqpdless.  The 
hardy  and  kind-hearted  veteran,  John  de  la  Cosa,  learn- 
ing of  the  state  of  affairs,  generously  offered  his  purse 
and  services  to  aid  Ojeda  in  the  enterprise.  The  offer  was 
gladly  accepted,  and  De  la  Cosa  went  to  Spain  to  give 
personal  attention  to  the  fitting-out  of  an  armament.  A 
ship  and  two  brigantines  were  soon  in  readiness,  and  with 
two  hundred  men  on  board  the  prows  were  turned  towards 
the  New  World. 

But  Ojeda  was  noc  to  have  the  field  of  colonization  entirely 
to  himself.  A brave,  noble  and  accomplished  courtier,  named 
James  de  Nicuesa,  asked  for  a share,  and  was  not  refused. 


1 Irving. 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


197 


Thr  Isthmus  of  Darien  was  divided  info  two  provinces;* 
Ojeda  was  to  rule  the  southern  division,  Nicnesa  the  north- 
ern; while  the  island  of  Jamaica  was  given  as  common 
ground,  whence  both  could  draw  a supply  of  provisions. 
Nicuesa  did  not  spare  his  means  in  fitting-out  a fleet. 

About  the  same  time  the  two  rival  armaments  cast  anchor 
in  the  harbor  of  San  Domingo,  Hispaniola.  The  chivalric 
Ojeda  welcomed  his  old  and  worthy  friend,  John  de  la  Cosa, 
whom  the  Government  had  appointed  his  lieutenant ; but 
there  is  little  doubt  that  he  felt  rather  mortified  on  seeing: 
the  inferiority  of  his  fleet  to  that  of  his  more  w’ealthy  rival, 
Nicuesa.  He  wanted  more  money.  Nor  was  he  long  in 
finding  it,  for  “he  had  a facility  at  commanding  the  purses 
of  his  neighbors.”  There  was  a lawyer  at  San  Domingo 
named  De  Enciso,  who  had  made  such  good  use  of  his  time 
and  his  tongue  that  he  was  worth  over  $10,000.  A restless, 
speculative  character,  he  was  just  the  man  to  grasp  at  any- 
thing that  promised  wealth  and  power.  Ojeda  offered  him 
the  Chief  Judgeship  of  his  new  province,  and  in  an  evil  hour 
Enciso  invested  his  all  in  the  enterprise. 

Two  rival  governors,  so  well  matched  as  Ojeda  and 
Nicuesa,  and  both  possessed  of  swelling  spirits,  pent  up  in 
small  but  active  bodies,  could  not  long  remain  in  a little 
place  like  San  Domingo  without  some  collision.  They 
quarreled.  Ojeda  wished  to  settle  the  matter  with  his  well- 
tried  sword ; but  Nicuesa  proposed  that  the  victor  should, 
reap  something  for  his  pains,  and  that  each  should  deposit 
$25,000.  This  is  just  what  the  conquerer  of  Caonabo  could 
not  do,  and  it  seems  that  no  blood  was  shed  ! 

The  10th  of  November,  1509,  saw  Alonzo  de  Ojeda  sail 
from  San  Domingo  with  two  ships,  two  brigantines,  and 
three  hundred  men.  Francis  Pizarro  was  on  board,  and  it 
was  illness  alone  that  prevented  Hernando  Cortez  from  joinr 
ing  the  expedition.  The  harbor  of  Carthagena  was  soon 


* King  Ferdinand  divided  that  part  of  the  continent  which  lies  along  the  Isthmus  of  Darien 
Into  two  provinces,  the  boundary  line  running  through  the  Gulf  of  Uraba.  The  eastern  part, 
extending  to  Cape  de  laVela,  was  called  New  Andalusia,  and  the  government  of  it  given  to  Ojeda. 
The  other,  to  the  west,  including  Veraqua,  and  reaching  to  Caps  Gracias  a Dios,  was  assigned  to 
Nicuesa.— /m/ij. 


198 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


reached.’  Well  did  the  veteran  De  la  Cosa  know  the 
place,  and  he  gave  Ojeda  some  useful  knowledge  concern- 
ing the  warlike  disposition  of  the  natives.  They  fought 
with  palm  swords,  he  said,  and  tipped  their  arrows  in  a 
deadly  poison, 

Ojeda,  accompanied  by  De  la  Cosa,  some  priests,  and  a 
part  of  his  force,  landed.  A crowd  of  savages  had  gathered, 
and  he  advanced  to  meet  them.  He  then  ordered  one  of  the 
missionaries  to  read  the  solemn  formula  which  had  been 
prepared  for  such  an  occasion.  It  began : 

“I,  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  servant  of  the  high  and  mighty 
Kings  of  Castile  and  Leon,  civilizers  of  barbarous  nations, 
their  messenger  and  captain,  notify  and  make  known 
to  you,  in  the  best  way  I can,  that  God  our  Lord,  One 
and  Eternal,  created  the  Heavens  and  the  earth,  and 
one  man  and  one  woman,  from  whom  you  and  we,  and 
all  the  people  of  the  earth,  were  and  are  descended, 
procreated,  and  all  those  who  shall  come  after  us ; but 
the  vast  number  of  generations  which  have  proceeded 
from  them  in  the  course  of  more  than  5,000  years  that 
have  elapsed  since  the  creation  of  the  world,  made  it 
necessary  that  some  of  the  human  race  should  disperse 
in  one  direction,  and  some  in  another,  and  that  they 
should  divide  themselves  into  many  kingdoms  and  pro- 
vinces, as  they  could  not  sustain  and  preserve  themselves 
in  one  alone. 

“All  these  peoples  were  given  in  charge,  by  God  our  Lord, 
to  one  person,  named  St.  Peter,  who  was  thus  made  lord  and 
superior  of  all  the  people  of  the  earth,  and  head  of  the  whole 
human  lineage ; whom  all  should  obey,  wherever  they  might 
live,  and  whatever  might  be  their  law,  sect  or  belief.  He 
gave  him  also  the  whole  world  for  his  service  and  jurisdiction; 
and  though  he  desired  that  he  should  establish  his  chair  in 
Rome,  as  a place  most  convenient  for  governing  the  woi’ld, 
yet  he  permitted  that  he  might  establish  his  chair  in  any 
other  part  of  the  world,  and  judge  and  govern  all  nations — 


' Carthagena  is  now  a city  and  seaport  of  New  Granada.  The  port  is  excellent,  and  is  the  only 
one  on  the  coast  fit  for  the  repair  of  vessels.  In  185"  the  population  was  18,000. 


ALONZO  DE  OJNDA. 


199 


Christians,'  Moors,  Jews,  Gentiles,  and  whatever  other  sect 
or  belief  might  be.  This  person  was  denominated  Pope, 
that  is  to  say,  Admirable,  Supreme  Father  and  Guardian, 
because  he  is  the  father  and  governor  of  all  mankind.  This 
Holy  Father  was  obeyed  and  honored  as  lord,  king  and  su- 
perior of  the  universe  by  those  who  lived  in  his  time,  and  in 
like  manner  have  been  obeyed  and  honored  all  those  who 
have  been  elected  to  the  pontificate ; and  thus  it  has  contin- 
ued to  the  present  day,  and  will  continue  until  the  end  of 
the  world.  . . ’ 

The  pious  manifesto  then  calls  on  the  savages  to  render 
obedience  to  the  Spanish  sovereigns,  to  take  time  to  con- 
sider the  truths  of  the  Catholic  faith,  and  to  embrace  them; 
and,  finally,  threatens  them  with  severe  punishment  in  case 
of  obstinate  refusal. 

When  the  priest  had  finished  reading  this  document,  Ojeda 
made  signs  of  friendship,  and  held  up  presents.  The  fierce, 
dusky  warriors,  however,  were  not  to  be  thus  easily  won.  As 
suming  a sullen  air,  they  loudly  sounded  the  note  of  battle. 
The  commander’s  fiery  nature  was  in  a moment  aroused. 
De  la  Cosa  saw  this,  and  the  prudent  veteran  entreated  his 
chief  to  abandon  a hostile  shore,  whose  wild  inhabitants 
fought  like  poisonous  reptiles.  But  in  vain  was  the  wise 
advice  of  the  faithful  old  pilot. 

Ojeda  hastily  breathed  a prayer  to  his  Heavenly  Patroness, 
brandished  his  sword,  and  rushed  on  the  savages.  The 
brave  De  la  Cosa  and  others  followed.  In  a few  minutes 
the  rout  was  complete.  Nor  was  this  all.  Ojeda  pursued 
the  flying  Indians  some  ten  or  twelve  miles  into  the  interior, 
in  spite  of  the  remonstrances  of  his  more  prudent  lieutenant, 
who  never  left  his  side.  At  last,  they  came  to  a stronghold 
of  the  enemy.  It  was  in  a dense  wood.  With  the  old 
Castilian  war-cry  of  ‘'“San  Jago!”  on  his  lips,  the  Con- 
queror of  Caonabo  led  his  men,  and  charged  furiously  on 


* It  will  doubtless  be  remembered  that  when  the  above  s ngular  docnment  was  penned  there 
were  no  Protestants  in  existence — the  very  name  was  nnknown.  The  words  Catholic  and  CkrU- 
Han  were  then  synonymons  and  interchangeable  terms. 

* The  whole  of  this  carious  docnment  can  he  fonnd  in  Robertson’s  “ History  of  America,”  not* * 
S3;  or  in  Irving's  “ Life  and  Voyages  of  Columbus,”  Appendix. 


900 


ALONZO  BE  0J£:DA. 


the  entrenched  Indians.  The  savages  fled  in  terror,  and  the 
rash  pursuit  was  continued.  Evening  found  the  Spaniards 
in  a village  whose  inhabitants  had  taken  to  the  neighbor- 
ing mountains.  Carelessly  dividing  into  bands,  they  roved 
about  from  house  to  house,  and  seized  on  everything  of 
value.  While  thus  engaged,  an  army  of  Indians  closed  on 
the  scattered  soldiers.  Everywhere  they  were  suddenly  sur- 
rounded. The  Spaniards  fought  like  lions;  but  overwhelmed 
by  numbers,  they  fell,  one  by  one,  beneath  the  heavy  war- 
clubs  and  the  poisoned' arrows  of  the  enraged  savages. 

What  became  of  the  protege  of  the  Blessed  Virgin?  On 
the  first  alarm,  Ojeda  collected  a few  soldiers  and  ensconced 
himself  within  a small  enclosui'e,  surrounded  by  palisades. 
Here  he  was  closely  besieged  and  galled  by  flights  of  ar- 
rows. He  threw  himself  on  his  knees,  covered  himself  with 
his  buckler,  and,  being  small  and  active,  managed  to  protect 
himself  from  the  deadly  shower,  but  all  his  companions 
were  slain  by  his  side,  some  of  them  perishing  in  frightful 
agonies.’  At  this  fearful  moment  the  veteran  De  la  Cosa, 
having  heard  of  the  peril  of  his  commander,  arrived  with  a 
few  followers  to  his  assistance.  Stationing  himself  at  the 
gate  of  the  palisades,  the  brave  Biscayan  kept  the  savages 
at  bay,  until  most  of  his  men  were  slain,  and  he  himself  was 
severely  wounded.  Just  then  Ojeda  sprang  forth  like  a 
tiger  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy,  dealing  his  blows  on  every 
side.  De  la  Cosa  would  have  seconded  him,  but  was  crip- 
pled by  his  wounds.  He  took  refuge  with  the  remnant  of 
his  men  in  an  Indian  cabin,  the  straw  roof  of  which  he  aided 
them  to  throw  off,  lest  the  enemy  should  set  it  on  fire. 

Here  he  defended  himself  until  all  his  comrades  but  one 
were  destroyed.  The  subtle  poison  of  his  wounds  at  length 
overpowered  him,  and  he  sank  to  the  ground.  Feeling 
death  at  hand,  he  called  to  his  only  surviving  companion. 
“Brother,”  said  he,  “since  God  has  protected  you  from 
harm,  sally  forth  and  fly,  and  if  ever  you  should  see  Alonzo 


> The  woorara,  with  which  the  South  American  Indians  poison  their  arrows,  is  a variety  of 
strychnine.  This  is  so  deadly  that  tM  scratch  of  a needle  dipped  in  it  will  produce  death;  yet  it 
may  be  swallowed  with  impunity. — Miller,  “ Elements  of  Chemistry." 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDa.. 


201 


de  Ojeda,  tell  him  of  my  fate!”  And  thus  died  the  kind 
and  hardy  veteran,  John  de  la  Cosa,  devoted,  fearless,  faith- 
ful, and  unflinching  to  the  last  gasp. ' 

The  Spaniards  who  remained  on  the  ships  were  alarmed 
at  the  long  delay  of  their  commander  and  his  detachment  in 
the  interior.  Days  passed,  but  the  absent  appeared  not. 
Search  was  then  made,  and  soon  given  up  in  despair.  One 
day,  however,  as  a party  were  coasting  along,  they  came  to  a 
dense  forest  of  mangrove  trees  that  lined  the  shore."  In 
the  distance  seemed  a human  figure  lying  on  the  mat- 
ted roots.  The  men  drew  near,  and  found  Alonzo  de  Ojeda ! 
He  was  speechless,  but  still  bravely  grasped  his  sword  and 
buckler.  A fire  was  made,  food  and  wine  given  him,  and 
in  a little  while  the  hero  recovered.  He  told  his  astonished 
hearers  how,  after  he  had  succeeded  in  cutting  a passage 
through  crowds  of  Indians,  that  he  found  himself  alone  in 
the  savage  wilderness.  He  deplored  his  rashness,  and  his 
heart  was  ready  to  break  when  he  recalled  the  awful  fate  of 
his  faithful  followers,  and,  above  all,  the  intrepid  De  la  Cosa. 
He  boldly  pushed  on,  however,  and  struck  the  coast  line, 
which  he  endeavored  to  follow  in  order  to  reach  the  ships. 
But  his  marvelous  strength  gave  way,  and  at  length  he  fell 
half  dead  to  the  earth.  He  attributed  his  escape  to  the  Im- 
maculate Virgin;  and  it  cannot  be  denied  that  it  was  noth- 
ing short  of  miraculous.  Not  a scratch  marked  his  person, 
though  “his  buckler  bore  the  dints  of  upwards  of  three 
hundred  arrows!” 


* Irving. 

> Mangrove  treee  are  fonnd  all  along  the  shores  of  the  tropics,  rooting  in  the  mod,  and  fommg 
dense  forests  even  at  the  verge  of  the  ocean,  and  below  high  water  mark. 


w 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  CLOUDS  GATHER  IN  THE  SKY  OF  LIFE. 

The  Colony  of  San  Sebastian  — Adventures  — Ojeda 
loounded — Voyage  and  shipwrecTc — A fearful  march 
through  bog  and  forest — The  picture  of  the  Holy 
Virgin— Ojeda' s oratory — Anecdote — The  end  of  a 
stirring  life. 

Bidding  adieu  to  the  hostile  shores  which  had  just  wit 
aessed  his  mistortunes  and  the  sad  fate  of  his  companions, 
Ojeda  sailed  across  the  Grulf,  and  began  his  settlement  on  the 
coast  of  Darien  He  selected  a suitable  site,  and  founded  a 
town,  giving  it  the  name  of  San  Sebastian,  “ in  honor  of  the 
sainted  martyr,  who  was  slain  by  arrows,  hoping  that  he 
might  protect  the  inhabitants  from  the  empoisoned  shafts  of 
the  savages.”  By  letter  to  Hispaniola,  he  urged  the  law 
yer,  De  Enciso,  to  hasten  to  the  new  seat  of  government, 
and  to  bring  with  him  the  men,  materials  and  provisions 
necessary  to  build  up  the  infant  colony. 

The  Governor  next  turned  his  thoughts  to  exploring  the 
wild  region  that  lay  around  him,  but  certainly  did  not  ac 
knowledge  his  rule.  The  natives  proved  warlike  In  their 
excursions  through  the  woods,  the  Spaniards  were  often  at- 
tacked, and  again  the  poisoned  arrows  worked  destruction, 
and  filled  them  with  terror.  On  one  occasion  the  savages, 
with  hideous  yells  and  wild  triumph,  pursued  a party  of  sol- 
diers up  to  the  rude  walls  of  San  Sebastian.  Evils  appeared 
to  multiply  Provisions  grew  scarce.  Misfortune  never 
comes  alone. 

As  the  colonists  grew  weaker,  the  Indians  increased  in 
boldness.  But  there  was  one  thing  that  never  changed.  It 
was  the  dauntless  spirit  of  Ojeda.  He  repeatedly  sallied 
forth  at  the  head  of  his  men,  and  being  remarkably  swift  of 
202 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA 


203 


foot,  he  was  always  the  first  to  make  the  savages  feel  the 
weight  of  his  blows.  “He  slew  more  of  their  warriors  with 
his  single  arm,”  writes  Irving,  “than  all  his  followers 
together.” 

The  fact  that  they  could  never  wound  him,  and  the  stories 
of  some  prisoners,  led  the  Indians  to  imagine  that  he  must 
have  a charmed  life.  A plot  was  made  to  test  the  truth  of 
the  story.  AVhile  a number  approached  the  town  as  a decoy, 
four  skilful  warriors  lay  in  ambush,  well  armed  with  a 
stock  of  poisoned  arrows.  Ojeda,  as  usual,  gave  chase,  and 
the  Indians  hastily  retreated.  AVhen  the  spot  was  reached, 
a volley  of  deadly  shafts  poured  on  the  fearless  cavalier. 
One  entered  his  thigh,  and  the  dusky  scoundrels  ran  away, 
making  the  woods  resound  with  their  yeUs  of  triumph. 

Death  appeared  certain,  and  the  bold  commander,  who  was 
never  wounded  before,  now  lay  on  a bed  of  agony.  He 
thought  of  a remedy,  but  it  was  a terrible  one.  He  ordered 
two  iron  plates  to  be  raised  to  a white  heat,  and.  calling  the 
surgeon,  he  commanded  him  under  pain  of  death  to  apply 
them  to  the  two  openings  made  by  the  arrow.  The  surgeon, 
after  some  hesitation,  complied,  and  Ojeda  endured  this 
frightful  operation  without  a murmur.  Time  healed  the 
wound,  and  the  savages,  it  may  be  supposed,  were  more  than 
astonished  as  they  felt  the  weight  of  his  iron  aim,  again 
and  again. 

One  day  a ship  arrived  in  San  Sebastian.  The  joy  of  all 
was  great,  as  they  thought  it  was  lawyer  De  Enciso,  with  a 
store  of  provisions  from  San  Domingo.  Alas ! they  were 
doomed  to  disappointment.  The  vessel  was  commanded  by 
one  Talavara,  a man  of  reckless  character,  and  his  crew  were 
little  better  than  downright  freebooters.  Ojeda,  however, 
purchased  some  provisions  for  his  starving  colony  ; but,  in  a 
short  time,  as  no  succor  arrived,  he  resolved  to  sail  for  His- 
paniola himself.  Leaving  Francis  Pizarro  in  command  of 
San  Sebastian,  he  hoarded  Talavara’ s vessel  and  stood  for 
San  Domingo. 

It  was  a most  disastrous  voyage.  Ojeda,  who  was  accus- 
tomed to  command,  soon  had  a dispute  with  the  captain, 


204 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


and  a quarrel  arose.  The  Conqueror  of  Caonabo  would 
speedily  have  settled  the  question  by  his  sword,  but  he  had 
the  whole  vagabond  crew  against  him,  who  overpowered 
him  with  numbers  and  threw  him  in  irons.  Still  his  swell- 
ing spirit  was  unsubdued.  He  reviled  Talavara  and  his 
gang  as  recreants,  traitors,  pirates,  and  offered  to  fight  the 
whole  of  them  successively,  provided  they  would  give  him 
a clear  deck  and  come  on  two  at  a time.  Notwithstanding 
his  diminutive  size,  they  had  too  high  an  idea  of  his  prow- 
ess, and  had  heard  too  much  of  his  exploits,  to  accept  his 
challenge  , so  they  kept  him  raging  in  his  chains,  while  they 
pursued  their  voyage.  ’ 

A storm  soon  brought  the  bungling  Talavara  and  his 
ignorant  crew  to  their  senses.  In  the  midst  of  the  danger 
they  thought  of  O jeda,  who  was  a sailor  as  well  as  a soldier. 
His  irons  were  taken  oft,  on  condition  that  he  would  pilot 
the  vessel  during  the  remainder  of  the  voyage.  He  seized 
the  helm,  but  no  human  skill  could  now  battle  successfully 
against  the  powerful  squalls  and  adverse  currents  that  beset 
the  tempest- tossed  vessel  It  was  completely  shattered,  and 
the  best  the  hardy  pilot  could  do  was  ‘ ' to  run  it  ashore  on 
the  southern  coast  of  Cuba.” 

There  was  now  but  one  course  open  to  the  unhappy  cast- 
aways— to  push  on  to  the  eastern  extremity  of  Cuba,  and 
then,  if  possible,  to  find  some  means  of  crossing  the  strait  to 
Hispaniola.  The  march  began  Over  bog,  and  plain,  and 
forest,  and  mountain,  the  exhausted  travelers  pursued  their 
wild  and  weary  journey,  meeting  neither  road  nor  pathway. 
The  master-spirit  of  Ojeda  lessened  the  difficulties,  and, 
from  time  to  time,  cheered  the  gloomy  wretches  who  toiled 
behind  his  small  but  dauntless  figure.  The  suffering  was 
terrible.  Hunger  and  thirst  gnawed  to  the  very  bone. 
Marshes  abounded,  and  many  rivers  were  to  be  crossed.  It 
was  only  safe  to  sleep  in  the  branches  of  the  trees.  Some 
of  the  men  daily  sank  beneath  the  burden  of  their  miseiies, 
while  others  were  drowned  in  swimming  the  rivers.  At 
length,  their  situation  became  truly  awful.  A boundless 


’ Irvine. 


ALONZO  DE  OJEDA. 


205 


marsh  barred  their  progress,  and  the  last  glimmer  of  hope 
almost  died  away. 

Oieda  alone  kept  up  a resolute  spirit.  He  had  the  dear 
little  Flemish  painting  of  the  Madonna,  which  was  given  him 
by  Bishop  Fonseca  carefully  stored  among  the  provisions 
in  his  knapsack.  Whenever  he  stopped  to  repose  among  the 
roots  of  the  mangrove  trees,  he  took  out  this  precious  pic- 
ture, placed  it  among  the  branches,  and  kneeling,  prayed 
devoutly  to  the  Immaculate  Virgin  for  protection  This  he 
did  repeatedly  in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  prevailed  upon 
his  companions  to  follow  his  example. 

Jior  did  his  resolute  piety  stop  here.  At  a moment  of 
great  despondency,  he  made  a solemn  vow  to  his  Holy 
Patroness  that  if  she  conducted  him  alive  through  this  peril, 
he  would  erect  a chapel  at  the  first  Indian  village  he  should 
arrive  at,  and  leave  her  picture  there  to  remain  an  object  of 
veneration  to  the  simple  children  of  the  forest. 

Led  by  the  iron  Ojeda,  the  weary  and  famished  travelers 
succeeded  after  thirty  days  of  toil  and  suffering,  perhaps 
scarcely  ever  equaled,  in  cutting  their  way  through  the 
frightful  morass — about  ninety  miles  in  extent.  A footpath 
appeared  in  the  distance.  They  followed  it,  and  came  to  an 
Indian  village.  Out  of  the  seventy  men  that  left  the  ship, 
but  thirty-five  now  survived.  The  cacique  lavished  every 
kindness  on  the  exhausted  Spaniards , and  the  good,  simple 
Indians  consoled  them  in  every  way  in  their  power,  “and,” 
says  Las  Casas^  “almost  worshiped  them  as  if  they  had 
had  been  angels.” 

When  Ojeda  was  once  more  restored  to  health,  he  pre- 
pared to  fulfill  his  vow.  A little  chapel  was  built  in  the 
village,  and  an  altar  placed  therein.  Above  the  altar  h® 
carefully  hung  the  Flemish  painting  of  the  Holy  Virgin, 
which  for  so  many  years  was  his  cherished  and  inseparable 
companion  on  sea  and  land,  in  danger  and  misfortune,  and 
which  he  loved  as  a friend  dear  to  his  heart  and  precious  to 
his  soul.  He  then  called  the  Indian  chief,  and  explained  to 
him  the  principal  truths  of  the  Catholic  faith  and  the  his- 
tory of  the  Immaculate  Virgin,  dwelling  especially  on  her 


20G 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


love  for  the  human  race,  and  her  great  dignity  as  the  Mother 
of  God. 

The  chief  listened  with  profound  attention,  and,  no  doubt, 
did  his  best  to  understand.  He  conceived  a profound  vene- 
ration for  the  picture.  The  sentiment  was  shared  by  his 
subjects.  They  kept  the  little  oratory  always  swept  clean, 
and  decorated  with  cotton  hangings,  labored  by  their  owm 
hands,  and  with  various  votive  offerings.  They  composed 
couplets  in  honor  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  which  they  sang  to 
the  accompaniment  of  rude  musical  instruments,  dancing 
to  the  sound  under  the  groves  which  surrounded  the  her- 
mitage. * 

When  Ojeda  reached  San  Domingo,  his  first  inquiry  was 
after  Enciso.  He  learned  that  the  aspiring  lawyer  had 
sailed  for  San  Sebastian ; but  in  vain  did  the  impatient 
Governor  w'ait  for  tidings  of  his  arrival  at  the  colony. 
Failure  also  attended  his  efforts  to  fit  out  another  armament. 
On  every  hand  success  appeared  to  evade  his  grasp ; and  the 
Conqueror  of  Caonabo  found  that  the  friendship  of  those 
who  carry  long  purses  grows  cold,  as  the  clouds  of  mis- 
fortune gather  in  the  sky  of  life. 

By  his  testimony  at  the  trial  of  Talavara,  Ojeda  drew 
upon  his  devoted  head  the  vengeance  of  a number  of  ruffians 
in  San  Domingo.  One  night  they  waylaid  the  lone  cavalier 
and  rushed  to  attack  him  ; but  they  quickly  found  to  their 
cost  that  they  had  made  a serious  mistake.  In  a moment 


> Irving. 

A further  anecdote  concerning  this  relic  may  not  be  unacceptable  here.  The  venerable  Bishop 
Las  Casas,  who  recoifls  the  foregoing  facts,  informs  ns  that  he  arrived  at  the  \illage  some  time 
after  the  departure  of  Ojfida.  He  found  the  oratory  presen'ed  with  the  most  religious  care  as  a 
sacred  piace,  and  the  picture  of  the  Immaculate  Mother  regarded  with  fond  adoration.  The  poor 
Indians  crowded  to  attend  Mass,  which  he  celebrated  at  the  altar;  they  listened  attentively  to 
his  paternal  instructions,  and  at  his  request  brought  their  children  to  be  baptized.  The  good 
Las  Casas,  having  heard  much  of  this  famous  relic  of  Ojeda,  was  desirous  of  obtaining  posession 
of  it,  and  offered  fo  give  the  cacique,  in  exchange,  an  image  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  which  he  had 
brought  with  him.  The  chieftain  made  an  evasive  answer,  and  seemed  much  troubled  in  mind. 
The  next  morning  he  did  not  make  his  appearance.  Lae  Casas  went  to  the  oratory  to  say  Mass, 
but  found  the  altar  stripped  of  its  precious  relic.  On  inquiring,  he  learned  that  in  the  night  the 
cacique  had  fled  to  the  woods,  bearing  off  with  him  his  beloved  picture  of  the  Holy  Virgin.  It 
was  in  vain  that  Las  Casas  sent  messengers  after  him,  assuring  him  that  he  should  not  be  de- 
prived of  the  relic,  but  on  the  contrary,  that  the  image  should  likewise  be  presented  to  him.  The 
tacique  refused  to  venture  from  the  fastnesses  of  the  forest,  nor  did  he  return  to  his  village  and 
replace  the  picture  in  the  oratory  until  after  the  departure  of  the  Spaniards. — Irving. 


ALONZO  BE  OJEDA. 


207 


OjMa’s  sword  flashed  from  its  scabbard,  and  he  proved 
more  than  a match  for  the  whole  gang.  Nor  was  this  all. 
After  chastising  the  vagabonds,  he  pursued  them  through 
the  streets,  and  then  quietly  returned  to  his  residence. 

The  last  years  of  our  hero  are  shrouded  in  poverty  and 
obscurity.  But  his  end  was  marked  by  the  humble  piety  of 
a brave  Christian  cavalier.  Religion,  which  in  more  pros- 
perous days  had  shone  on  his  wild  and  adventurous  path- 
way, still  cheered  his  intrepid  spirit  and  brightened  the  last 
hours  of  life.  Humility  and  true  valor  are  commonly  found 
inseparable.  In  expiation  of  his  past  pride,  Ojeda  re- 
quested, with  dying  lips,  to  be  buried  under  the  portal  of 
the  monastery  of  St.  Francis,  at  San  Domingo,  “that  every 
one  who  entered  might  tread  upon  his  grave.”  And  thus 
passed  away  from  this  world  Alonzo  de  Ojeda,  the  protege 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  the  Conqueror  of  Caonabo,  the  fear- 
less leader  of  many  a bold  and  desperate  charge,  and  one  of 
the  most  dauntless  men  that  ever  stood  on  the  shores  of  the 
New  World. 

“Who  does  not  forget  his  errors  and  his  faults,”  writes 
Irving,  “at  the  threshold  of  his  humble  and  untimely 
grave!'  He  was  one  of  the  most  fearless  and  aspiring  of  the 
band  of  ‘Ocean  chivalry,’  that  followed  the  footsteps  of 
Columbus.  His  story  presents  a lively  picture  of  the  daring 
enterprises,  the  extravagant  exploits,  the  thousand  accidents 
by  flood  and  fleld,  which  checkered  the  life  of  a Spanish 
cavalier  in  that  roving  and  romantic  age.” 


> According  to  the  best  anthorities,  the  date  of  Ojtda'i  death  was  1610  or  1611.  He  was  ahoat 
fcrty-lve  years  of  age. 


VASCO  nuNez  de  balboa, 

DISCOVERER  OF  THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN.* 


CHAPTER  1. 

EARLY  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES. 

Birth—  Voyage  to  America — Balboa  as  a farmer — As  an 
adventurer — Lawyer  Enciso — An  unexpected  meeting — 
A disaster — Balboa  rises  to  prominence — Nicuesa  and 
his  fate — Balboa  at  the  head  of  affairs — He  visits  a 
great  cacique— Hears  of  the  Pacific  Ocean — Conversions 
— Preparations— A famous  dog  called  Leoncico. 

Vasco  Nunez  de  Balboa  was  born  in  tbe  city  of  Xeres  de 
los  Caballeros,  Spain,  in  tbe  year  1475.  He  belonged  to  a 
noble  but  impoverished  family,  and  grew  up  in  the  service  of 
a nobleman  named  Don  Pedro  Carrero. 

Joining  the  expedition  of  Roderic  de  Bastides,  Balboa 
sailed  from  Spain  in  the  year  1500.  He  visited  the  coast  of 
the  Isthmus  of  Darien,  following  in  many  places  the  foot- 
steps of  Columbus.  The  destruction  of  the  vessels  by 
worms,  however,  brought  the  voyage  to  a sudden  termina- 
tion on  the  shores  of  Hispaniola. 

Balboa  turned  farmer  in  Hispaniola,  but  success  did  not 
smile  on  his  toil.  After  some  years  we  find  him  heavily  in 
debt,  and  without  any  immediate  prospect  of  being  able  to 
meet  the  demands  of  his  creditors.  He  thought  of  another 
voyage,  but  secrecy  and  opportunity  were  now  necessary. 

In  1510  the  looked-for  opportunity  anived.  As  ^\dll  be 


• Chief  authorities  used:  Irving,  “Lives  and  Voyages  of  the  Companions  of  Columbus;”  Robert- 
»<>n,  “History  of  America;”  Maccall,  “Foreign  Biographies;”  “The  Penny  Cyclopa-dia.” 


209 


210 


VASCO  NUNEZ  BE  BALBOA. 


remembered,  Ojeda  wrote  to  the  lawyer  Enciso,  telling  him 
to  tit  out  an  expedition  in  San  Domingo,  and  to  sail  without 
delay  for  San  Sebastian  with  the  necessary  supplies  and  re- 
inforcements. Enciso  complied.  Among  those  who  sought 
refuge  on  the  departing  vessel  was  Balboa ; but  the  utmost 
care  was  required  in  order  to  elude  the  vigilance  of  his  cred- 
itors. Nor  was  he  unequal  to  the  task.  Concealing  him 
self  in  a cask,  which  seemed  to  contain  provisions,  the 
future  Discoverer  of  the  Pacific  had  himself  conveyed  from 
his  farm  to  the  water’s  edge,  and  thence  on  shipboard. 

When  the  vessel  was  fairly  out  at  sea,  Balboa  emerged 
from  his  cask.  Enciso,  who  was  totally  ignorant  of  the 
stratagem,  was  surprised  and  indignant,  and  in  the  first  mo- 
ments of  wrath,  he  threatened  to  leave  the  fugitive  debtor 
on  the  shores  of  some  uninhabited  island.  Balboa,  however, 
succeeded  in  pacifying  the  commander,  “for  God,”  writes 
the  venerable  Las  Casas,  “reserved  him  for  greater  things.” 

At  this  time,  we  are  told,  Balboa  was  in  the  prime  of  life — 
a good  sailor,  a fearless  soldier,  an  expert  swordsman,  with 
a pleasing  countenance,  and  tall,  graceful,  muscular  person. 

The  ship  touched  the  mainland  at  the  fatal  harbor  of 
Carthagena,  around  which  lay  those  scenes  that  had  wit- 
nessed De  la  Cosa’s  heroic  end,  and  the  reckless  bravery  of 
Ojeda.  Enciso  was  at  this  eventful  place  but  a short  time, 
when  a small  vessel  sailed  in  and  cast  anchor.  He  was 
much  surprised.  Going  on  board  the  strange  craft,  he  learned 
that  it  was  manned  by  a number  of  Ojeda’s  followers,  under 
the  famous  Francis  Pizzaro,  who  had  a sad  story  to  tell.  In 
truth,  the  little  vessel  contained  the  remnant  of  the  colony 
of  San  Sebastian.  Despair,  famine,  and  the  poisoned  ar- 
rows of  the  savages  had  hastened  their  departure  from  the 
wild  Isthmus  of  Darien. 

Enciso,  partly  by  persuasion  and  partly  by  the  per- 
emptory exercise  of  his  authority  as  chief  magistrate  of  the 
new  colony,  prevailed  upon  Pizzaro  and  his  crew  to  return. 
They  sailed  for  San  Sebastian,  but  disaster  met  them  on  enter- 
ing the  very  harbor.  The  ship  struck  a rock,  and  the  merci- 
less waves  and  currents  soon  scattered  it  in  fragments.  Little 


VASCO  NUS^EZ  BE  BALBOA. 


211 


could  be  saved.  The  horses,  swine,  and  most  of  the  provis- 
ions were  swept  away;  and  the  unhappy  Enciso  saw  the 
proceeds  of  years  of  toil  swallowed  up  in  a moment  by  the 
sea.  His  hopes  of  place  and  dignity  received  a rude  shock. 

On  landing,  it  was  found  the  Indians  had  destroyed  the 
fortress.  A heap  of  charred  ruins  was  all  that  now  remained 
of  San  Sebastian;  and  the  general  feeling  of  dismay  was 
such  as  to  point  to  the  necessity  of  abandoning  a place 
marked  out  for  misfortune. 

“Where  should  they  go?”  was  anxiously  asked.  At  this 
moment  of  doubt  and  despondency,  Balboa  stepped  forward 
to  give  counsel.  “I  remember  to  have  seen,”  said  he, 
“when  I was  on  these  coasts  some  years  ago,  a town  situated 
by  a large  river,  on  the  west  side  of  the  Gulf.  The  inhabit- 
ants were  of  a mild  character,  and  did  not  use  poisoned 
arrows.”  He  offered  to  act  as  guide,  and  his  offer  was  joy- 
fully accepted  as  one  who  had  revealed  a land  of  promise. 
It  is  ever  thus  the  light  of  genius  and  courage  shines  out  in 
days  of  darkness.  It  w'as  Balboa’s  first  step  on  the  path  to 
prominence  and  command. 

They  promptly  set  sail  for  their  new  point  of  destination, 
and  on  reaching  it  found  five  hundred  Indian  warriors  on 
the  shore,  drawn  up  in  hostile  array.  Battle  was  given  and 
the  savages  routed.  Enciso  then  entered  the  village, 
taking  possession  of  its  wealth  and  that  of  the  surrounding 
country.  He  collected  great  quantities  of  provisions,  together 
with  cotton,  bi’acelets,  anklets,  plates  and  other  gold  orna- 
ments, to  the  value,  it  is  said,  of  over  S53;000.  All  were 
pleased  at  this  stroke  of  fortune,  and  here  it  was  decided 
to  fix  the  seat  of  government.  The  place  was  named  Santa 
Maria  de  la  Antigua  del  Darien. 

Enciso,  as  chief  magistrate,  at  once  took  command,  in  the 
absence  of  Ojeda.  He  made  severe  regulations,  and  soon 
found  himself  very  unpopular ;' in  short,  he  learned  to  his 
cost  that  he  was  wholly  unfitted  to  govern  a multitude  of 
uneasy  adventurers. 

Balboa,  however,  became  a great  favorite.  He  had  risen 
to  consequence  among  his  companions  from  having  guided 


212 


VASCO  NUS'EZ  DE  BALBOA. 


them  to  this  place,  and  from  his  own  intrinsic  qualities,  and 
being  hardy,  bold  and  intelligent,  and  possessing  the  random 
spirit  and  open-handed  generosity  common  to  a soldier  of 
fortune,  and  calculated  to  dazzle  and  delight  the  multitude. 
He  was  not,  it  seems,  much  disposed  to  side  with  Enciso, 
who  had  once  threatened  to  cast  him  on  some  barren  island. 
Indeed,  he  even  hinted  to  the  colonists  that  they  were  not 
obliged  to  submit  to  the  power  of  Enciso,  as  the  village  of 
Darien  did  not  lie  within  the  boundary  line  of  Ojeda’s  do- 
minions, but  that  it  was  really  situated  in  the  territory  which 
had  been  given  to  Nicuesa,  the  other  Governor.  Unhappy 
Enciso  ! This  information  pleased  the  colonists,  and  his  rule 
terminated.  The  people  took  the  power  into  their  own  hands. 

Three  officers,  of  whom  Balboa  was  one,  were  appointed 
to  take  charge  of  the  affairs  of  the  colony.’  But  this  ar- 
rangement did  not  please  everyone;  some  still  thought  it 
would  be  better  to  place  the  power  in  the  hands  of  one  per- 
son. The  community,  however,  were  divided  as  to  whether 
this  responsible  charge  should  be  given  to  Balboa  or  to  Ni- 
cuesa.  While  the  matter  was  in  debate,  two  vesssels  arrived. 
They  were  commanded  by  Colmenares,  and  had  been  sent 
out  with  supplies  for  Nicuesa.  The  commander  furnished 
provisions  to  the  colonists,  and  took  considerable  pains  to 
persuade  them  that  it  was  their  duty  to  submit  to  Nicuesa. 
It  was  finally  decided  that  Colmenares,  with  two  of  their 
own  number,  should  coast  along  the  Isthmus  in  search  of 
Nicuesa;  and  if  he  were  found,  he  was  to  be  invited  to  come 
to  Darien,  and  assume  the  government  of  the  colony. 

The  vessel  accordingly  proceeded  along  the  coast,  and 
every  bay  and  inlet  was  carefully  examined.  One  day  at 
sea  a brigantine  was  sighted.  It  proved  to  be  a part  of  Ni- 
cuesa’s fleet.  The  captain  conducted  Colmenares  to  the 
port  of  Nomhre  de  Dios,  the  name  piously  given  co  the  so- 
called  capital  of  the  unfortunate  colony.  Here  the  once  gay 
and  wealthy  Governor  Nicuesa  Avas  found  living  in  great 
poverty  and  wretchedness.  Of  his  brave  company,  but 


> Balboa  and  one  Zenadio  were  elected  alcaldes,  or  magistrates,  and  a cavalier  named  A'aldivia 
was  appointed  regidor. 


VASCO  NU^tEZ  BE  BALBOA. 


213 


sixty  men  remained,  and  all  were  famished,  feeble,  and 
dispirited. 

Colmenares  brought  food  on  shore,  and  then  informed 
Nicuesa  of  the  wishes  of  the  colonists  at  Darien.  A new 
life  was  infused  into  the  soul  of  the  unhappy  Governor.  In 
a moment,  as  it  were,  he  became  another  man.  To  testify 
his  joy  he  even  gave  a kind  of  feast  to  Colmenares  and  the 
messengers  from  Darien.  But,  as  his  hopes  revived,  he 
seemed  to  lose  his  discretion.  In  a conversation  with  the 
two  colonists  from  Darien  he  heard  that  the  people  had  been 
buying  gold  from  the  Indians,  and  at  once  expressed  his 
emphatic  disapprobation.  He  went  so  far  as  to  declare  that 
he  would  make  them  give  it  up,  and  would  punish  with 
great  severity  all  those  who  did  not  give  to  the  Spanish 
Sovereign  his  full  share  of  the  treasures  which  were  found. 

The  two  messengers  from  Darien  were  anything  but 
pleased  at  this  language.  For  such  conduct  Enciso  had  lost 
his  power.  Had  one  severe  master  been  removed  to  give 
place  to  another  still  more  severe?  The  two  men  hastened 
away  ere  Nicuesa  had  time  to  get  ready  to  leave  his  capital, 
and  reached  Darien  before  him.  They  related  what  they  had 
seen  and  heard.  Nicuesa,  they  were  not  slow  to  proclaim, 
was  a tyrant.  A cloud  of  trouble  now  appeared  to  hang 
over  the  colony,  and  each  man  took  counsel  of  his  fears. 
What  to  do  they  knew  not. 

Balboa  observed  the  perplexity  and  consternation  of  the 
multitude.  One  by  one  he  drew  them  aside,  and  conversed 
in  private.  “You  are  cast  down  in  heart,”  said  he,  “and 
so  you  might  well  be,  were  the  evil  beyond  all  cure.  But 
do  not  despair.  There  is  an  effectual  remedy,  and  you  hold 
it  in  your  own  hands.  If  you  have  committed  an  error  in 
inviting  Nicuesa  to  Darien,  it  is  easy  to  right  the  matter  by 
not  receiving  him  when  he  comes  ! ” The  simplicity  of  the 
remedy  was  of  course  as  clear  as  sunlight,  and  it  was 
adopted  without  a dissenting  voice. 

As  Nicuesa  approached  Darien,  he  little  dreamed  of  the 
plans  which  had  ]ust  been  formed  against  him.  Nearing’ 
the  shore,  he  saw  a number  of  men  headed  by  Balboa.  He 


214 


VASCO  NU^tEZ  DE  BALBOA. 


fancied  they  had  come  to  welcome  him  to  his  new  govern- 
ment; but  as  he  was  about  to  land  one  of  the  public  officers 
called  out  to  him  in  a loud  voice,  and  forbade  him  to  step 
on  shore.  The  poor  Governor’s  astonishment  may  well  be 
imagined. 

At  first,  he  was  speechless.  On  recovering  his  self-pos- 
session somewhat,  he  reminded  his  hearers  that  he  had  come 
at  their  request,  and  begged  them  to  allow  him  to  land  and 
explain  his  conduct.  They  might  then,  he  added,  do  as 
they  pleased.  His  words  only  provoked  insolent  replies 
and  thi’eats  of  violence  should  he  venture  to  put  foot  on 
shore.  As  night  came  on  he  was  obliged  to  put  out  to  sea, 
in  order  to  avoid  the  dangers  of  the  coast. 

Next  morning  Nicuesa  reappeared.  The  people  seemed 
to  have  changed  their  minds,  for  they  invited  the  Governor 
to  land.  It  was  a mere  stratagem,  however,  to  get  him  in 
their  power.  No  sooner  had  he  stepped  on  shore,  than  the 
multitude  rushed  at  him.  He  was  noted  for  swiftness  of 
foot,  and  now  trusted  to  it  for  safety.  Throwing  off  the 
dignity  of  Governor,  he  fled  for  dear  life  along  th*e  shore, 
closely  pursued  by  the  rabble.  He  soon  distanced  his  pur- 
suers, and  took  refuge  in  the  woods. 

Balboa  took  no  part  in  this  disgraceful  chase.  Though 
he  did  not  like  the  idea  of  Nicuesa’ s being  Governor  of 
Darien,  he  was  far  from  pleased  to  see  him  treated  in  such 
barbarous  style.  Himself  a man  of  birth,  his  sympathies 
were  aroused  on  beholding  the  misfortunes  of  this  high-bred 
but  unhappy  cavalier.  He  endeavored  to  act  the  difficult 
part  of  mediator  between  Nicuesa— who  finally  asked  to  be 
received  on  any  conditions — and  the  angry  colonists.  All 
his  efforts  failed.  He  then  privately  sent  word  to  the  fugi- 
tive Governor  that  the  only  course  left  open  for  him  was  to 
go  on  board  his  brigantine,  and  not  to  venture  on  shore 
until  further  advice. 

In  vain  did  Balboa  exert  his  eloquence  to  obtain  a fair 
hearing  for  the  unhappy  Nicuesa.  His  voice  was  drowned 
by  the  vociferations  ol  the  multitude.  Among  these  Avas  a 
noisy,  swaggering  feUow,  named  Benitez,  a great  talker  and 


VASCO  nuMez  de  balboa. 


215 


jester,  who  cook  a vulgar  triumph  in  the  distresses  of  the 
accomplished  cavalier,  and  answered  every  plea  in  his  behalf 
with  jeers  and  derision.  He  was  an  adherent  of  the  magis- 
trate Zenudio,  and  under  his  patronage  felt  that  he  might 
safely  act  the  part  of  a bold  braggart.  In  the  general  clamor 
his  voice  was  ever  heard  uppermost.  To  the  expostulations 
of  Balboa  he  merely  replied  by  brawling  with  great  vocife- 
ration ; “No,  no,  no ! we  will  receive  no  such  fellow  among 
us  as  Nicuesa!”  Balboa’s  patience  was  exhausted.  Availing 
himself,  as  Las  Casas  relates,  of  his  authority  as  magistrate — 
and  suddenly,  before  his  fellow  magistrate  could  interfere 
— he  ordered  the  brawling  ruffian  to  be  rewarded  with  one 
hundred  lashes,  and  thus  his  shoulders  were  severely  pun- 
ished for  the  misdeeds  of  an  unruly  tongue.' 

Xicuesa  was  on  board  his  vessel  but  a short  time,  when  a 
party  of  those  most  opposed  to  him  paid  him  a visit,  offer- 
ing to  make  him  Governor  if  he  would  land.  In  a moment 
of  indiscretion  he  listened  to  the  malicious  invitation,  with- 
out waiting  to  hear  from  Balboa.  It  was  merely  a lure  of 
the  multitude  to  get  the  man  in  their  power.  He  landed, 
and  was  immediately  seized  by  an  armed  band,  who  com- 
pelled him  under  pain  of  death  to  swear  that  he  would  at 
once  depart  from  Darien,  and  make  no  delay  until  he  had 
reached  Spain.  He  remonstrated,  spoke  eloquently  in  his 
own  behalf,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  The  mob  hurried  him  on 
board  the  most  unseaworthy  vessel  in  the  harbor.  Seven- 
teen of  his  devoted  followers  volunteered  to  share  his  fate; 
and  on  the  1st  of  March,  1511,  the  crazy  old  brigantine 
stood  across  the  Caribbean  Sea.  It  was  heard  of  no  more ! " 

Xicuesa’ s ill-starred  vessel  had  barely  disappeared  from 
view,  when  again  the  colonists  of  Darien  became  a prey  U 
faction  rule.  Once  more  Enciso  made  his  voice  heard.  The 


• Irving. 

' Various  attempts  have  been  made  to  penetrate  the  mystery  that  covers  the  fate  of  the  brigan- 
tine and  its  crew.  A rumor  prevailed  some  years  afterwards  that  several  Spaniards,  wandering 
along  the  shore  of  Cuba  found  the  following  inscription  carved  on  a tree:  "A^ui  fenecio  el  dee- 
dickado  Nicutfa"—'V\ie  unfortunate  Nicnesa  perished  here.  Hence  it  was  inferred  that  he  and  his 
followers  had  landed  there,  and  been  massacred  by  the  Indians.  Las  Casas,  however,  discredits 
the  story. — Irving. 


216 


VASCO  nuSez  de  balboa 


people,  however,  were  for  Balboa,  who  had  already  been 
elected  one  of  the  magistrates.  Ability  gained  him  respect 
and  influence ; in  short,  he  was  the  first  man  in  the  place. 
After  a trial  for  misconduct,  Enciso  was  allowed  to  proceed 
to  Spain  to  tell  his  story  at  Court. 

The  lawyer’s  ups  and  downs  of  fortune  were  remarkable 
At  Ojeda’s  invitation,  he  had  sailed  for  the  new  province  to 
sit  on  the  Judge’s  bench,  but  suddenly  found  himself  a cul- 
prit at  the  bar,  and  was  now  glad  to  be  permitted  to  wend 
his  way  homewards ! 

Nor  was  Balboa  entirely  tranquil.  He  feared  that  the 
skilled  tongue  of  Enciso  would  plead  its  cause  only  too  well 
before  the  King,  and  that  the  lawyer’s  innocence  might 
prove  his  own  condemnation.  Our  hero  prudently  thought 
his  side  of  the  story  should  be  heard  across  the  Atlantic. 
Accordingly,  he  sent  in  the  same  ship  with  Enciso  his  fel- 
low-judge, Zenudio,  who  was  instructed  to  relate  the  part 
which  Balboa  had  taken,  and  to  inform  the  Spanish  Sover- 
eign how  much  he  had  done  for  the  progress  of  the  colony, 
Zenudio  was  also  to  set  forth  the  great  wealth  of  the 
country. 

As  the  vessel  was  to  stop  at  Hispaniola,  Balboa  did  not 
forget  to  send  out  another  friend,  Valdivia,  provided  with  a 
rich  present  for  the  Royal  Treasurer  of  the  island.  He  knew 
the  latter’s  influence  with  the  King,  and  was  very  desirous 
to  secure  his  friendship. 

Being  now  the  sole  head  of  affairs  in  the  colony,  Balboa 
strained  eveiy  nerve  to  prove  his  capacity  in  the  difficult  art 
of  governing.  He  knew  that  to  King  Ferdinand  one  of  the 
most  convincing  proofs  was  gold,  and  hence  he  neglected  no 
opportunity  to  gather,  if  possible,  a store  of  the  precious 
metal.  On  one  occasion  he  sent  Pizarro  with  six  men  to  ex- 
plore what  was  reported  to  be  a very  rich  region.  The  chief- 
tain of  the  place,  at  the  head  of  a band  of  warriors,  pounced 
on  the  handful  of  Spaniards.  After  a desperate  fight,  the 
soldiers  retreated,  leaving  one  of  their  disabled  companions 
on  the  field.  They  arrived  at  the  settlement,  bearing  visible 
marks  of  a severe  chastisement. 


VASCO  NUS^EZ  BE  BALBOA. 


217 


When  Balboa  heard  the  particulars,  and,  especially,  that 
a wounded  comrade  was  left  behind,  his  indignation  knew 
no  bounds.  “For  shame,  let  it  not  be  said,”  he  exclaimed, 
in  a voice  of  thunder,  “that  Spaniards  fled  before  savages, 
and  left  a comrade  in  their  hands!  ” This  sharp  rebuke  was 
not  without  effect.  Pizarro  revisited  the  scene  of  combat, 
and  returned  in  safety  with  the  wounded  soldier. 

Our  sketch  will  not  admit  of  a detailed  account  of  Bal- 
boa’s many  contests  and  adventures  with  the  Indians  at 
this  point  in  his  career.  W e have  but  room  for  one  incident. 
On  a certain  expedition,  the  commander  made  a friendly 
visit  to  the  chief  of  Comagre,  who  must  have  been  an  im- 
portant personage,  as  it  is  said  he  could  muster  3,000  warriors 
in  the  fleld. 

His  dominions  lay  at  the  foot  of  a lofty  mountain,  in  a 
beautiful  plain,  twelve  leagues  in  extent.  On  the  approach 
of  Balboa,  the  cacique  came  forth  to  meet  him,  attended  by 
seven  sons,  aU  fine  young  men.  He  was  followed  by  his 
principal  chiefs  and  warriors,  and  by  a multitude  of  his 
people.  The  Spaniards  were  conducted  with  great  ceremony 
to  the  village,  where  quarters  were  assigned  them,  and  they 
w'ere  furnished  with  abundance  of  provisions,  and  men  and 
women  were  appointed  to  attend  upon  them. 

The  dwelling  of  the  cacique  surpassed  any  they  had  yet 
seen,  for  magnitude,  and  for  the  skill  and  solidity  of  the 
architecture.  It  was  150  paces  in  length  and  80  in  breadth, 
founded  upon  great  logs,  surrounded  with  a stone  wall ; 
while  the  upper  part  was  of  woodwork,  curiously  inter- 
woven and  wrought  with  such  beauty  as  to  cause  surprise 
and  admiration.  It  contained  many  commodious  apart- 
ments. There  were  storerooms  also  ; one  filled  with  bread, 
with  venison,  and  other  provisions ; another  with  various 
spirituous  beverages,  which  the  Indians  made  from  maize, 
from  a species  of  the  palm,  and  from  roots  of  different 
kinds. 

There  was  also  a great  hall  in  a retired  and  secret  part  of 
tlie  building,  wherein  the  dusky  ruler  preserved  the  bodies 
cf  his  ancestors  and  relatives.  These  had  been  dried  by  the 


2i8 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA. 


tire,  so  as  to  free  them  from  corruption,  and  afterwards 
wrapped  in  mantles  of  cotton,  richly  wrought,  and  inter 
woven  with  pearls  and  jewels  of  gold,  and  with  certain 
stones  held  precious  by  the  natives.  They  w'ere  then  hung 
about  the  hall  with  cords  of  cotton,  and  regarded  with  great 
reverence,  if  not  with  religious  devotion. 

The  chiefs  eldest  son  w^as  distinguished  above  the  rest  by 
his  lofty,  generous  spirit  and  superior  intelligence.  Seeing, 
writes  old  Peter  Martyr,  that  the  Spaniards  were  a “wan- 
dering kind  of  men,  living  only  by  shifts  and  spoil,”  he 
sought  to  gain  their  favor  by  ^ts  of  the  precious  metal. 
He  presented  Balboa  with  4,000  ounces  of  gold  in  various 
forms.  The  commander  ordered  the  treasure  to  be  weighed, 
one-fifth  to  be  set  apart  for  the  crown,  and  the  rest  to  be  dis- 
tributed among  his  followers.  The  gold  was  weighed  in  the 
porch  of  the  chiefs  residence,  and  in  presence  of  the  youth- 
ful donor.  While  this  was  going  on  a violent  quarrel  arose 
among  the  Spaniards  as  to  the  size  and  value  of  the  pieces 
which  fell  to  their  respective  shares.  The  young  cacique 
was  disgusted  on  beholding  such  a sordid  brawl  among 
beings  whom  he  had  regarded  with  such  reverence.  Seized 
by  an  impulse  of  disdain,  he  struck  the  scales  with  his 
hand,  and  scattered  the  glittering  gold  about  the  porch. 

“Why,”  he  exclaimed,  “do  you  quarrel  about  such  a 
trifle?  If  this  gold  is,  indeed,  so  precious  in  your  eyes  that 
for  it  alone  you  abandon  your  homes,  invade  the  peaceful 
lands  of  others,  and  expose  yourselves  to  such  sufferings 
and  dangers,  I will  tell  you  of  a region  where  you  may 
gratify  your  wishes  to  the  utmost.  Behold  those  lofty 
mountains,”  he  continued,  pointing  to  the  South,  “beyond 
these  lies  a mighty  sea  which  may  be  discerned  from  their 
summit.  It  is  navigated  by  a people  who  have  vessels  al- 
most as  large  as  yours.  The  streams  that  flow  down  to  the 
sea  abound  in  gold.  The  kings  who  rule  on  its  snores  eat 
and  drink  out  of  golden  vessels.” 

Balboa  inquired  how  this  rich  region  could  be  reached. 


' Trring. 


\ ASCO  NU^EZ  DE  BALBOA. 


219 


“The  task,”  replied  the  young  chief,  “is  both  difficult 
and  dangerous.  You  must  pass  through  the  territories  of 
many  powerful  caciques,  who  will  oppose  you  with  hun- 
dreds of  warriors.  Some  of  the  mountains  are  infested  by 
fierce  and  cruej  cannibals.  But,  above  all,  you  will  have  to 
encounter  the  great  cacique  Tubanama,  whose  territories  are 
at  the  distance  of  six  days’  journey,  and  more  rich  in  gold 
than  any  other  province.  He  will  be  sure  to  come  forth 
against  you  with  a mighty  force.  To  succeed  in  such  an 
enterprise  would  require  at  least  one  thousand  men  armed 
like  those  whom  you  now  command.”  The  young  chief 
also  gave  some  further  information,  and  even  offered  to 
accompany  Balboa  with  his  father’s  warriors.' 

This  was  the  first  information  which  the  Spaniards  re- 
ceived concerning  the  great  Pacific  Ocean.,  and  the  rich  and 
extensive  country  afterwards  known  by  the  name  of  Peru. 
Balboa  had  now  before  him  objects  worthy  of  his  ambition 
and  the  enterprising  ardor  of  his  bright  and  active  genius. 
Nor  was  the  Faith  forgotten.  Before  leaving  Comagre,  Bal- 
boa had  the  happiness  of  receiving  its  wise  and  distin- 
guished cacique  into  the  Church.  The  dusky  ruler  was 
baptized  by  the  name  of  Don  Carlos.  His  sons  and  many  of 
his  people  followed  his  example.  Thus  did  religion  and 
the  spirit  of  discovery  go  hand  in  hand. 

Balboa  now  concluded  that  the  ocean  which  the  young 
chief  mentioned  was  no  other  than  that  for  which  Columbus 
had  searched  without  success  in  this  part  of  America,  in 
hopes  of  opening  a more  direct  communication  with  the 
» East  Indies;  and  he  conjectured  that  the  rich  territory 
which  had  been  described  to  him  must  be  part  of  that  vast 
and  opulent  region  of  the  earth.  He  was  elated  with  tho 
idea  of  performing  what  so  great  a man  had  in  vain  at- 
tempted. The  thought  of  such  an  enterprise  aroused  his 
spirit  and  ennobled  his  character.  Besides,  he  was  also  eager 
to  accomplish  a discovery  which  he  knew  would  be  no  less 
acceptable  to  the  King  than  beneficial  to  his  country;  and 


• Irving. 


220 


VASCO  nuMez  be  balboa. 


he  was  impatient  till  he  could  set  out  upon  this  undertaking, 
in  comparison  with  which  all  his  former  exploits  appeared 
inconsiderable. 

But  previous  arrangement  and  preparation  were  necessary 
in  order  to  carry  out  successfully  such  a splendid  enterprise. 
For  this  purpose  Balboa  hastened  back  to  Darien.  He  be- 
gan by  winning  the  friendship  of  the  neighboring  caciques. 
At  this  point,  however,  private  news  from  Spain  warned 
him  that  he  might  be  recalled  by  the  King  at  any  moment, 
to  answer  charges  brought  against  him  by  Enciso.  Such  a 
blow,  he  saw,  would  annihilate  all  his  hopes.  He  decided  to 
hasten  the  expedition.  To  linger  was  to  be  lost.  He 
felt  that  such  a brilliant  achievement  as  the  discovery  of  a 
great  Ocean  would  silence  his  enemies,  establish  his  reputa 
tion,  and  gain  the  favor  of  Ferdinand. 

With  these  thoughts  nerving  him  to  action,  Balboa  care- 
fully chose  one  hundred  and  ninety  hardy  and  resolute  fol- 
lowers— men  devoted  to  his  person  and  fortune.  He  armed 
them  with  swords,  cross-bows  and  arquebuses.  Nor  did 
he  conceal  from  them  the  dangers  that  might  have  to  be  en 
countered ; but  the  bold  spirit  of  the  early  Spanish  adven- 
turers always  rose  with  the  difficulties  of  their  position. 
They  were  ready  to  follow  their  intrepid  leader  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth. 

To  aid  his  slender  forces,  he  took  with  him  a number  of 
blood-hounds,  which  had  been  found  to  be  terrific  allies  in 
Indian  warfare.  The  Spanish  writers  make  particular  men- 
tion of  one  of  those  animals,  named  Leonclco,  which  was  a 
constant  companion,  and,  as  it  were,  a body-guard  of  Balboa, 
and  describe  him  as  minutely  as  they  would  a favorite 
warrior.  He  was  of  a middle  size,  but  immensely  strong ; 
of  a dull  yellow  ca*  reddish  color,  Avith  a black  muzzle,  and 
his  body  was  scarred  all  over  Avith  Avounds  received  in  in- 
numerable battles  with  the  Indians.  Balboa  always  took 
him  on  his  expeditions,  and  sometimes  lent  him  to  others, 
receiving  for  his  services  the  same  share  of  booty  allotted  to 
an  armed  man.  In  this  way,  he  gained  by  him  in  the  course 
of  his  campaigns  upwards  of  a thousand  crowns.  The  In- 


4 


VASCO  Nu:SrEZ  de  balbvo..  221 

dians,  it  is  said,  had  conceived  such  terror  of  this  animal 
that  the  very  sight  of  him  was  sufficient  to  put  a host  of 
them  to  flight,'  A number  of  Darien  Indians  were  likewise 
added  to  the  force  for  the  expedition.  Such  was  the  motley 
armament  that  set  out  in  quest  of  the  Paciflc  Ocean ! 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  PACIFIC  OCEAN. 

Final  'preparations — The  march  begins — Difficulties — A 
Battle — The  first  view  of  the  Pacific  Ocean— Address 
and  thanksgiving — A Cross  in  the  wilderness — Takes 
possession  of  the  Pacific — The  march  back. 

It  was  the  6th  of  September,  1513.  In  the  little  Indian 
port  of  Coyba,  on  the  east  side  of  the  Isthmus,  there  lay 
rocking  on  the  quiet  waves  a brigantine  and  nine  large  ca- 
noes— the  little  fleet  which  had  just  transported  Balboa  and 
his  force  from  Darien  to  this  point.  All  felt  it  was  a day  of 
great  importance.  Early  in  the  morning  Holy  Mass  was 
celebrated,  and  even  the  least  devout  prayed  that  God  would 
bless  the  expedition  with  success. 

Balboa  left  about  half  his  men  to  guard  the  vessels,  and 
with  the  rest  struck  into  the  interior.  The  Isthmus  of  Da- 
rien is  not  above  seventy  miles  in  breadth;  but  this  neck  of 
land,  which  binds  together  the  grand  divisions  of  North 
and  South  America,  is  strengthened  by  a chain  of  lofty 
mountains  stretching  through  its  whole  extent,  which  ren- 
der it  a barrier  of  solidity  sufficient  to  resist  the  impulse  of 
two  opposite  oceans.  The  mountains  at  that  day  were  cov- 
ered with  forests  almost  inaccessible.  The  valleys  in  such  a 
moist  climate,  where  it  rains  during  two- thirds  of  the  year, 
are  marshy,  and  so  frequently  overflowed,  that  the  inhabit- 
ants And  it  necessary,  in  many  places,  to  build  their  houses 
upon  trees,  in  order  to  be  elevated  at  some  distance  from  the 
damp  soil  and  the  odious  reptiles  engendered  in  the  putrid 
waters.  From  the  high  grounds  large  rivers  rush  down 
with  an  impetuous  current.  And  in  a region  then  inhab- 
222 


NUS^EZ  BE  BALBOA. 


223 


ited  by  wandering  savages,  the  hand  of  industry  had  done 
nothing  to  correct  those  natui’al  disadvantages.* 

To  march  across  this  unexplored  country  with  no  other 
guides  than  Indians — whose  fidelity  could  be  little  trusted — 
was,  perhaps,  the  boldest  enterprise  on  which  the  Spaniards 
had  hitherto  ventured  in  the  Xew  World.  But  the  intre- 
pidity of  Balboa  was  such  as  distinguished  him  among  his 
countrymen,  at  a period  when  every  explorer  was  conspicu- 
ous for  daring  courage.  Nor  was  bravery  his  only  merit. 
He  was  prudent  in  conduct,  generous,  courteous,  and  pos- 
sessed of  those  popular  talents  which  in  the  most  desperate 
undertakings  inspire  confidence  and  secure  attachment. 

The  commander  no  sooner  advanced  into  the  interior  of 
the  country  than  he  found  his  pathway  strewed  with  num- 
berless obstacles.  Roads  there  were  none.  Some  of  the 
caciques,  at  his  approach,  fled  to  the  mountains  with  all 
their  people,  and  carried  off  or  destroyed  whatever  could 
afford  subsistence  to  his  troops.  Others  collected  their  wild 
subjects,  in  order  to  oppose  his  progress.  In  short,  he 
quickl}"  learned  what  an  arduous  undertaking  it  was  to  lead 
such  a body  of  men  across  swamp»  and  river,  through  wood 
and  wilderness,  over  plain  and  mountain,  which  had  never 
been  pressed  but  by  the  feet  of  straggling  savages.  But  by 
sharing  in  every  hardship  with  the  meanest  soldier,  by  being 
first  CO  meet  every  danger,  by  promising  confidently  to  his 
little  force  the  enjoyment  of  honor  and  riches  superior 
what  had  been  attained  by  the  most  successful  of  their 
countrymen,  he  inspired  them  with  such  enthusiastic  bravery 
that  they  followed  him  without  a murmur. 

When  the  Spaniards  had  penetrated  a good  way  into  the 
mountains,  a powerful  chief  appeared  in  a narrow  pass  with 
a large  body  of  warriors,  armed  with  bows  and  arrows, 
spears,  and  war.clubs  made  of  palm,  which  were  almost  as 


• The  Isthmus  of  Panama— formerly  called  Darien— is  from  thirty  to  seventy  miles  in  breadth. 
The  country  is  mountainous,  its  hiighest  peak  rising  7,300  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  Along 
the  Caribbean  Sea  the  coast  is  rocky  and  lofty,  but  mostly  low  and  swampy  along  the  Pacific. 
The  soil  is  everywhere  fertiic.  The  forests  abound  in  excellent  timber.  Except  on  the  heights, 
the  ciimate  is  very  unhealthy.  The  Isthmus  forms  a state — one  of  the  United  States  of  Colombia 
—comprising  an  area  of  29,756  square  miles,  with  175,000  inhabitants. — Johnton's  “ New  Univereat 
Cyclopedia." 


224 


VASCO  NUS'EZ  DE  BALBOA. 


hard  and  heavy  as  iron.  The  hostile  savages  looked  with 
contempt  on  the  handful  of  white,  exhausted  travelers,  raised 
the  war-cry,  and  with  fury  rushed  to  the  attack.  Balboa 
and  his  men,  like  a wall,  withstood  the  impetuous  onset. 
The  first  fire  of  the  Spanish  guns  filled  the  dusky  horde  with 
alarm.  They  broke,  and  ran.  The  Spaniards  pursued,  and 
the  fierce  blood-hounds  joined  in  the  chase.  At  the  end  of 
the  conflict,  the  chief  and  six  hundred  Indians  lay  dead  on 
the  battle-field,  and  many  more  were  taken  prisoners. 

The  troops  then  marched  to  the  village  of  the  slain  ca- 
cique, and  took  possession  of  a large  quantity  of  gold  and 
jewels.  Balboa  reserved  one-fifth  for  the  King,  and  made  a 
liberal  division  of  the  rest  among  his  exhausted  followers. 
They  had  now  reached  the  foot  of  the  last  mountain  that 
separated  them  from  a view  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  In  the 
recent  engagement  several  of  the  Spaniards  were  wounded, 
and  others  were  so  worn  out  with  fatigue  that  they  could 
go  no  farther.  After  a careful  examination  of  his  force,  the 
commander  found  but  sixty- seven  men  who  were  in  suffi- 
cient health  and  spirits  to  continue  their  long  and  toilsome 
march.  Though  the  guides  had  represented  the  breadth  of 
the  Isthmus  to  be  only  a journey  of  six  days,  they  had 
already  spent  twenty  in  forcing  their  way  over  mountains 
and  through  the  trackless  wilderness.  It  was  evening,  and 
all  retired  to  rest. 

The  day  had  scarcely  dawned,'  when  Balboa  and  his  fol- 
lowers set  forth  from  the  Indian  village  and  began  to  climb 
the  height.  It  was  a severe  and  rugged  toil  for  men  so  way- 
worn ; but  they  were  filled  with  new  ardor  at  the  idea  of  the 
triumphant  scene  that  was  so  soon  to  repay  them  for  all  their 
hardships.  About  ten  o’clock  in  the  morning  they  emerged 
from  the  thick  forests  through  which  they  had  hitherto 
struggled,  and  arrived  at  a lofty  and  airy  region  of  the 
mountain.  The  bald  summit  alone  remained  to  be  ascended ; 
and  their  guides  pointed  to  a moderate  eminence,  from 
which,  they  said,  the  Southern  Sea  was  visible. 

Upon  this,  Balboa  commanded  his  followers  to  halt,  and 


* It  was  the  26th  of  September,  1513. 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA  TAKING  POSSESSION  OF  I HE  PACIFIC  OCEAN, 


VASCO  2iU^tEZ  BE  BALBOA. 


225 


that  no  man  shonld  stir  from  his  place.  Then,  with  a pal- 
pitating heart,  he  ascended  alone  the  bare  mountain-top. 
On  reaching  the  summit,  the  long-desired  prospect  burst 
upon  his  view.  It  was  as  if  a new  world  were  unfolded  to 
him,  separated  from  all  hitherto  known  by  this  mighty  bar- 
rier of  mountains.  Below  him  extended  a vast  chaos  of 
rock,  and  forest,  and  green  savannas,  and  wandering  streams, 
while  at  a distance  the  waters  of  the  promised  Ocean  glit- 
tered in  the  morning  sun.* 

It  was,  in  truth,  a scene  glorious  and  picturesque.  The 
brave  Balboa  feU  upon  his  knees,  raised  his  eyes  to  Heaven, 
and  thanked  the  good  God  for  being  the  first  European  to 
make  such  a great  discovery.  He  invited  his  troops  to 
ascend. 

“My  brothers,”  he  exclaimed,  “behold  the  object  of  all 
our  desires,  and  the  reward  of  all  our  toils.  Let  us  give 
thanks  to  God  that  he  has  granted  us  this  great  honor  and 
advantage.  Let  us  pray  to  Him  to  guide  and  aid  us  to  con- 
quer the  sea  and  land  which  we  have  discovered,  and  which 
Christian  has  never  entered  to  preach  the  holy  doctrine  of 
the  Evangelists.  As  to  yourselves,  be  as  you  have  hitherto 
been,  faithful  and  true  to  me,  and,  by  the  favor  of  Christ, 
you  will  become  the  richest  Spaniards  that  have  ever  come 
to  the  Indies ; you  will  render  the  greatest  service  to  your 
King  that  ever  vassal  rendered  to  his  lord ; and  you  will 
have  the  eternal  glory  and  advantage  of  all  that  is  here  dis- 
covered, conquered,  and  converted  to  our  Holy  Catholic 
Faith !” 

This  warm,  eloquent  address  produced  profound  emotion. 
The  soldiers  embraced  their  heroic  commander,  and  promised 
to  follow  him  even  to  death  itself.  The  chaplain.  Father 
Andrew  de  Vara,  then  lifted  up  his  voice  and  chanted  the 
Te  Deum,  in  thanksgiving  to  the  Almighty  Ruler  of  the 
universe.  “The  rest,  kneeling  down,”  writes  Balboa’s 
American  Protestant  biographer,  “joined  in  the  strain  with 
pious  enthusiasm  and  tears  of  joy ; and  never  did  a more 
sincere  oblation  rise  to  the  Deity  from  a sanctified  altar  tnan 


' Irrinpr. 


226 


VASCO  nuMez  de  balboa. 


from  that  mountain  summit.  It  was,  indeed,  one  of  the 
most  sublime  discoveries  that  had  yet  been  made  in  the  New 
World,  and  must  have  opened  a boundless  held  of  conjec- 
ture to  the  wondering  Spaniards.”* 

Balboa  called  his  companions  to  witness  that  he  took  pos- 
session of  the  sea,*  islands,  and  surrounding  territory,  in  the 
name  of  the  Catholic  Sovereigns  of  Castile.  A testimonial  to 
that  elfect  was  drawn  up,  and  signed  by  the  sixty-seven  men. 
He  then  cut  down  a tall  tree,  made  a cross,  and  raised  the 
august  Sign  of  the  Redemption  on  the  very  spot  whence  he 
first  saw  the  vast  expanse  of  waters. 

The  Spaniards  held  on  their  course,  descended  the  mountain, 
and  through  many  obstacles  forced  their  way  to  the  shore. 
The  wild  waters  lay  in  sombre  silence.  No  sail  met  the  eye. 
A great  bay  extended  as  far  as  the  vision  could  reach,  and 
it  being  St.  Michael’s  day,  Balboa,  in  the  spirit  of  a true 
Catholic,  gave  it  the  name  of  the  Gulf  of  St.  Michael.,  the 
name  by  which  it  is  known  even  to-day.  At  that  hour  the 
tide  was  out,  but  the  commander  waited  till  the  surging 
deep  swept  in  almost  to  his  feet.  He  then  took  a banner, 
upon  which  were  painted  the  images  of  the  Most  Blessed 
Virgin  and  the  Holy  Infant,  and  under  them  the  arms  of 
Castile,  and,  drawing  his  sword,  he  marched  into  the  sea, 
until  the  water  was  knee-deep,  and  called  upon  all  to  wit- 
ness that  he  took  solemn  possession  for  the  Spanish  Sover- 
eigns. The  notary  of  the  expedition  drew  up  the  usual 
document,  which  was  signed  by  those  present.  Then  all 
stooped  down  and  tasted  the  waters,  and  again  returned 
thanks  to  Heaven.  Balboa  finally  cut  three  crosses  on  three 
adjacent  trees,  in  honor  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  and  in  token 
that  he  had  discovered  and  taken  possession  of  the  great 
Pacific  Ocean. 

The  intrepid  Commander,  after  several  adventurous  visits 
to  some  of  the  islands  in  the  Gulf,  and  the  collection  of  con- 
siderable treasure  in  the  surrounding  territory,  began  to 
retrace  his  steps  towards  Darien.  In  order  to  acquire  a 
more  extensive  knowledge  of  the  Isthmus,  he  marched  back 


• living. 


VASCO  ncSez  be  balboa. 


227 


by  a different  route,  which  he  found  to  be  no  less  dangerous 
and  difficult  than  that  which  he  had  formerly  taken.  But 
to  men  elated  with  success,  and  animated  by  hoj)e,  nothing 
is  insurmountable.  He  reached  the  Spanish  settlement  at 
Darien  on  January  19th,  1514,  bringing  lAith  him  greater 
glory  and  more  treasure  than  his  countrymeu  hitherto  had 
acquired  in  any  expedition  in  the  New  World. 

In  this  expedition,  Balboa’s  conduct  towards  the  natives 
was  most  kind  and  prudent.  Having  left  a few  of  his  men 
who  were  unable  to  follow  him,  in  an  Indian  village,  on  his 
Line  of  march  to  the  Pacific,  the  chief  of  the  tribe  went  out 
to  meet  him  on  his  return,  and  presenting  the  soldiers,  said : 
“Receive,  brave  man,  your  companions  uninjured,  as  they 
entered  under  my  roof  ; and  may  he  who  gives  us  the  fruits 
of  the  earth,  and  causes  the  thunder  and  lightning,  preserve 
you  and  them.”  Herrara  tells  us  that  the  dusky  ruler  then 
raised  his  eyes  to  the  sun,  as  if  he  worshiped  that  as  his 
deity  and  the  dispenser  of  all  temporal  blessings.  It  is  also 
related  that  none  of  Balboa’s  officers  distinguished  them- 
selves more  in  this  discovery  than  Francis  Pizarro.' 


• Francis  Pizairo  was  a native  of  Spain.  He  was  of  humble  origin.  In  early  years  he  enlisted 
as  a soldier,  and  seems  to  have  served  in  several  campaigns  both  in  Spain  and  Italy.  His  roving 
spirit  soon  led  him  to  the  New  World.  “ He  was  of  ferocious  courage,”  writes  Irving,  “ and  when 
engaged  in  any  enterprise,  possessed  an  obstinate  perseverance  neither  to  be  deterred  by  danger, 
weakened  by  fatigue  and  hardships,  nor  checked  by  repeated  disappointment.  After  having 
conquered  the  great  kingdom  of  Peru,  he  was  assassinated  at  an  advanced  age  in  1541,  defending 
himself  bravely  to  the  last." 

For  the  story  of  his  adventurous  career,  see  Prescott’s  “ History  of  the  Conquest  of  Pem.’^ 


CHAPTER  III. 

BLASTED  HOPES  AND  THE  HEROIC  END. 

Accounts  of  the  discovery  sent  to  Spain — A new  Governor — 
The  situation  at  Darien — Sickness — Bad  treatment  of 
the  Indians — Balboa  raises  his  voice — Is  appointed 
Lieutenant  - Governor — Preparations  to  go  to  Peru  — 
Carrying  ships  across  the  mountains — New  difficulties 
and  dangers — The  first  European  vessels  on  the  Pa- 
cific— Pour  ships  completed  and  all  ready — Balboa  sud- 
denly arrested — His  trial  and  unjust  condemnation — 
He  meets  death  like  a true  hero. 

Balboa’s  first  care  was  to  send  information  to  Spain  of 
the  important  discovery  which  he  had  made;  and  to  demand 
a reinforcement  of  1,000  men,  in  order  to  attempt  the  con- 
quest of  that  rich  nation,  concerning  which  he  had  received 
such  inviting  intelligence.'  The  first  account  of  the  discov- 
ery of  the  western  hemisphere  hardly  occasioned  greater  joy 
than  the  unexpected  tidings  that  a passage  was  at  last 
found  to  the  great  Southern  Ocean,  as  the  Pacific’  was  then 
called.  Communication  with  the  East  Indies,  by  the  west- 
ward, seemed  now  to  be  certain. 

The  vast  wealth  which  flowed  into  Portugal  from  its  In- 
dian settlements  and  conquests  excited  the  envy,  and  called 
forth  the  emulation  of  other  states.  Ferdinand  hoped  now 
to  come  in  for  a share  in  this  lucrative  commerce,  and  in  his 
eagerness  to  obtain  it,  was  willing  to  make  an  effort  even  be- 
yond what  the  Discoverer  of  the  Pacific  required.  But  in 
this  exertion,  his  jealous  policy,  as  well  as  the  fatal  anti- 


^ Peru. 

* The  name  Padjic  was  given  it  by  the  famous  Ferdinand  Magellan  in  1530.  See  Robertson’s 
“History  of  America,”  Boole  V. 


228 


VASCO  NirStEZ  BE  BALBOA. 


pathy  of  Bishop  Fonseca  to  every  man  of  merit  who  distin- 
guished himself  in  the  New  World,  were  conspicuous. 

Notwithstanding  Balboa’s  recent  services — which  certainly 
marked  him  out  as  the  most  proper  person  to  finish  that 
great  undertaking  which  he  had  begun — Ferdinand  was  so 
ungenerous  as  to  overlook  these,  and  to  appoint  Don  Pedro 
Arias  Davila,  Governor  of  Darien.  He  gave  him  the  com- 
mand of  fifteen  vessels  and  twelve  hundred  soldiers.  These 
were  fitted  out  at  the  public  expense  with  a liberality  which 
the  King  had  never  displayed  in  any  former  armament  for 
the  New  World;  and  such  was  the  ardor  of  the  Spanish 
gentlemen  to  follow  a leader  who  was  about  to  conduct  them 
to  a country,  where,  as  fame  reported,  they  had  only  to 
throw  their  nets  into  the  sea  and  draw  out  gold,  that  fifteen 
hundred  embarked  on  board  the  fleet. 

Davila  reached  the  Gulf  of  Darien  without  any  remarka- 
ble accident,  and  at  once  sent  some  of  his  principal  ofiicers 
ashore  to  inform  Balboa  of  his  arrival,  with  the  King’s  com- 
mission to  be  Governor  of  the  colony.  To  their  astonish- 
ment they  found  the  Discoverer  of  the  Pacific  Ocean,  of 
whose  great  exploits  they  had  heard  so  much,  and  of  whose 
opulence  "hey  had  formed  such  high  ideas,  clad  in  a can- 
vas jacket,  and  wearing  coarse  hempen  sandals  used  only 
by  the  mei  nest  peasants,  employed,  together  with  some  In- 
dians, in  roofing  his  own  hut  with  reeds.  Even  in  this  simple 
garb,  however,  Balboa  received  the  visitors  with  dignity. 

The  fame  of  his  discoveries  had  drawn  so  many  adven- 
turers from  the  West  Indies  that  he  could  now  muster  four 
hundred  and  fifty  men.  At  the  head  of  those  hardy,  daring 
veterans  he  was  more  than  a match  for  the  forces  which 
Davila  brought  with  him.  His  troops  murmured  loudly  at 
the  injustice  of  the  King  in  superseding  their  intrepid  com- 
mander, and  complained  that  strangers  would  now  reap  the 
fruits  of  their  toil  and  success.  Balboa  himself  submitted 
with  implicit  obedience  to  the  will  of  his  sovereign,  and  re- 
ceived Davila  with  all  the  deference  due  to  his  character.' 

‘ Davila  was  accompanied  by  his  heroic  wife  Doha  Isabella,  who  according  to  old  Peter  Mar- 
tyr had  sustained  the  roarings  and  rages  of  the  ocean  with  no  less  stout  courage  than  either  her 
husband  or  the  mariners  who  had  been  brought  up  among  the  surges  of  the  sea. — Irving. 


280 


VASCO  NUS^EZ  DE  BALBOA. 


But  notwithstanding  this  moderation,  to  which  Davila 
owed  the  peaceful  possession  of  his  government,  he  ap 
pointed  a judicial  inquiry  to  be  made  into  Balboa’s  conduct 
while  under  the  command  of  Nicuesa.  He  was  found  guilty 
of  several  irregularities  and  fined.  Balboa  was  deeply  mor- 
tified at  being  subjected  to  trial  and  punishment  in  the  very 
place  where  he  had  so  lately  occupied  the  first  station.  Nor 
could  Davila  conceal  his  jealousy.  Balboa’s  sux)erior  merit 
was  beyond  question.  Such  feelings  led  to  dissensions  ex- 
tremely detrimental  to  the  prosperity  of  the  colony. 

But  it  was  threatened  with  a calamity  still  more  fatal. 
Davila  had  landed  in  Darien  at  a most  untimely  period  of 
the  year,  about  the  middle  of  the  rainy  season,  in  that  part 
of  the  torrid  zone  where  the  clouds  pour  down  such  torrents 
as  are  unknown  in  more  temperate  climates.  The  village  of 
Santa  Maria  was  seated  in  a rich  plain  surrounded  by  woods 
and  marshes.  The  constitutions  of  Europeans  were  unable 
. to  withstand  the  pestilential  influence  of  such  a situation,  in 
a climate  naturally  so  noxious,  and  at  a season  so  peculiarly 
unhealthy.  Many  of  the  soldiers  were  carried  off  by  a 
deadly  malady.  An  extreme  scarcity  of  provisions  aug- 
mented this  distress,  as  it  rendered  it  impossible  to  find 
proper  refreshment  for  the  sick,  or  the  necessary  sustenance 
for  the  healthy.  In  the  space  of  a month  over  six  hundred 
persons  perished;  and  dejection  and  despair  spread  through 
the  whole  colony.  Many  of  the  chief  persons  were  glad  to 
relinquish  all  their  hopes  of  wealth,  and  to  turn  their  steps 
homewards  to  the  shores  of  sunny  Spain. 

The  new  Grovernor  endeavored  to  divert  those  who  re- 
mained from  brooding  over  their  misfortunes,  by  finding  them 
employment.  With  this  view,  he  sent  several  detachments 
into  the  interior  of  the  country,  to  levy  gold  among  the  In- 
dians, and  to  search  for  the  mines  in  which  it  was  produced. 
Those  rapacious  adventurers  were  more  attentive  to  present 
gain  than  to  the  means  of  facilitating  their  future  progress 
Plunder  marked  their  line  of  march. 

Regardless  of  the  alliances  which  Balboa  had  wisely  made 
with  several  of  the  caciques,  those  greedy  gold-hunters 


r.i^c’o  ^'uSez  de  balboa. 


231 


stripped  them  of  everything  valuable,  and  treated  them  as 
well  as  their  subiects,  with  the  utmost  insolence  and  cruelty. 
By  their  tyranny  and  exactions — which  DavUa  either  could 
not  or  would  not  restrain— all  the  country  from  the  Gulf  of 
Darien  to  Lake  Nicaragua  was  desolated,  and  the  Spaniards 
were  inconsidei-ately  deprived  of  the  advantages  which  they 
might  have  derived  from  the  friendship  of  the  natives,  in 
extending  their  conquests  to  the  Pacific  Ocean. 

Balboa  beheld  such  Ul- judged  proceedings  with  sadness ; 
and  retarded  the  execution  of  his  favorite  scheme,  of  setting 
out  for  the  conquest  of  Peru.  He  likewise  sent  strong  re- 
monstrances to  Spain,  against  the  imprudent  government  of 
Davila,  which  had  ruined  a happy  and  nourishing  colony. 
On  the  other  hand,  DavUa  accused  the  Discoverer  of  the 
Pacific  of  having  deceived  the  King,  by  magnifying  his  own 
exploits,  as  well  as  by  a false  representation  of  the  natural 
riches  of  the  country. 

Ferdinand,  at  length,  became  sensible  of  his  blunder  in 
superseding  the  bravest,  most  active,  and  most  experienced 
officer  he  had  in  the  New  World;  and,  by  way  of 
compensation  to  Balboa,  appointed  him  Lieutenant-Gover- 
nor of  the  countries  upon  the  Pacific,  with  very  extensive 
privileges  and  authority.  At  the  same  time,  he  enjoined 
Davila  to  support  Balboa  in  all  his  operations,  and  to  con- 
sult with  him  concerning  every  measure  which  he  himself 
pursued.  But  to  bring  about  such  a sudden  transition  from 
inveterate  enmity  to  perfect  confidence,  exceeded  the  power 
of  Ferdinand.  Da^dla  continued  to  treat  his  rival  with  ne- 
glect- and  Balboa’s  fortune  being  exhausted  by  the  pay- 
ment of  his  fine  and  other  exactions  of  the  Governor,  he 
found  that  he  could  not  make  suitable  preparations  for  taking 
possession  of  his  new  government.  By  the  interposition 
and  exhortations  of  the  good  Bishop  of  Darien,  however, 
they  were,  at  last,  brought  to  a reconciliation ; and  in  order 
to  cement  this  union  more  firmly,  it  was  agreed  that  Davila 
should  give  his  daughter  in  marriage  to  Balboa.  The  first 
effect  of  their  concord  w-as,  that  Balboa  was  j)ermitted  to 
make  several  short  incursions  into  the  country.  These  he 


232 


VASCO  NU^EZ  DE  BALBOA. 


conducted  with  a prudence  which  even  added  to  his  well 
earned  reputation. 

Many  adventurers  crowded  around  the  now  famous  Discov 
erer  of  the  Pacific ; and  with  the  aid  of  Davila  He  began  to 
prepare  for  his  expedition  to  Peru.  In  order  to  accomplish 
this  it  was  necessary  to  build  vessels  capable  ol  conveying 
his  troops  to  the  point  of  invasion.  The  little  tOAvn  of  Alca, 
on  the  Atlantic  coast  west  of  Darien,  was  the  scene  of  the 
busy  preparations.  Four  brigantines  were  to  be  built. 

The  timber  was  cut  on  the  Atlantic  seaboard ; and,  then, 
with  the  anchors  and  rigging  was  carried  across  the  lofty 
mountains  to  the  other  side  of  the  Isthmus.  Several  Span- 
iards, thirty  Negroes,  and  a great  many  Indians  were  em- 
ployed at  this  weary  work.  It  need  hardly  be  said  the  toil 
was  extreme. 

The  large  masses  of  hewn  timber  had  to  be  dragged 
through  impenetrable  forests  marked  by  no  roadway  save, 
perhaps,  an  Indian  footpath.  Rivers  had  to  be  crossed. 
And  as  the  exhausted  toilers  pushed  their  way  up  the  steep, 
rough  sides  of  hills  and  mountains,  scorched  by  a tropical 
sun,  they  were  ready  to  sink  beneath  their  heavy  burdens. 
The  poor  Indians  were  unequal  to  the  terrible  task,  and 
many  perished  on  the  journey.  The  Spaniards  and  Negroes, 
however,  bore  the  fatigue  better.  On  reaching  the  summit 
of  the  mountain  whence  Balboa  first  saw  the  glorious  Pa- 
cific, the  workmen  halted,  a house  was  erected,  and  some- 
time spent  in  refreshing  themselves. 

After  this  repose  they  continued  their  toilsome  course 
down  the  mountain-side,  and,  at  last,  came  to  a navigable 
river  to  which  they  gave  the  name  of  Balsas.  It  flowed 
into  the  Pacific.  Nor  were  their  labors  now  terminated.  It 
was  found  that  the  timber  which  had  cost  such  unheard  of 
toil  was  all  worm-eaten,  and,  of  course,  unfit  for  use.  More 
had  to  be  cut  in  the  vicinity  of  Balsas ; but  scarcely  was 
everything  again  in  readiness  to  begin  the  construction  of 
the  vessels,  when  the  rain  began  to  pour  down  in  torrents. 
The  river  overflowed  its  banks.  The  country  was  inundated 
So  rapid  was  the  rise  of  the  waters  that  the  men  barely  es- 


VASCO  NUNEZ  DE  BALBOA. 


233 


caped  drowning  by  climbing  up  the  trees,  and  residing 
among  the  branches 

After  a time,  marked  by  hunger  and  many  adventures, 
the  waters  fell,  and  the  indomitable  Balboa  and  his  men 
were  once  more  at  work.  Supplies  came  from  Alca,  and,  in 
a little  while,  ihe  Discoverer  of  the  Pacific  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  two  of  his  brigantines  proudly  moving  on  the  Balsas. 
They  were  equipped,  floated  down  the  river,  and  soon  their 
keels  cut  the  wide  waters  of  the  Pacific.  What  must  have 
been  the  intrepid  Commander’s  emotions  when  he  first 
spread  his  sail  on  that  untraversed  ocean?  His  were  the 
first  European  ships  that  rode  on  its  briny  bosom. 

There  are  points  in  the  history  of  the  Spanish  discoveries 
of  the  western  hemisphere,  which  make  us  pause  with  won- 
der and  admiration  at  the  daring  spirit  of  the  men  who  con- 
ducted them,  and  the  appalling  difficulties  surmounted  by 
their  courage  and  perseverance.  We  know  few  instances, 
however,  more  striking  than  this  piecemeal  transportation, 
across  the  mountains  of  Darien,  of  the  first  European  ships 
that  ploughed  the  waves  of  the  Pacific;  and  we  can  readily 
excuse  the  boast  of  the  old  Castilian  writers,  when  they 
exclaim,  “that  none  but  Spaniards  could  ever  have  con- 
ceived or  persisted  in  such  an  undertaking,  and  no  com- 
mander in  the  New  World  but  Vasco  Nunez  could  have 
conducted  it  to  a successful  issue.”  ’ 

Balboa  s first  cruise  in  the  Pacific  was  to  the  Pearl  Isl- 
ands, on  the  largest  of  which  he  disembarked  the  greater 
part  of  his  men.  Here  it  was  his  intention  to  build  the  two  re- 
maining brigantines,  which  he  required  to  complete  the  squad- 
ron One  of  his  earliest  cares  was  to  gain  the  good-will  of 
the  natives.  But  while  preparations  were  making  for  the 
construction  of  the  two  vessels,  his  active  spirit  found  suit- 
able occupation  in  various  reconnoitering  cruises.  In  one 
of  these  he  steered  about  twenty  leagues  beyond  the  Gulf  of 
St.  Michael,  and  then  cast  anchor,  in  order  to  calm  the 


' Irving. 

See  an  account  of  a nmilar  enterprise,  on  a much  larger  scale,  by  Hernando  Cortes,  at  Um 
ki  uonc  siege  of  the  city  of  Mexico. 


234 


VASCO  NUNEZ  BE  BALBOA. 


alarm  of  the  sailors,  who  fancied  in  the  dusk  of  evening  that 
they  saw  reefs  and  breakers  ahead  When  the  morning 
dawned,  however,  the  wind  had  changed,  and  was  contrary; 
whereupon  he  altered  his  course,  and  thus  abandoned  a 
cruise,  which,  if  persevered  in,  might  have  terminated  in 
the  discovery  of  Peru!  * 

After  surmounting  many  new  obstacles,  and  enduring  a 
variety  of  hardships,  he,  at  length,  had  the  satisfaction  of 
seeing  the  two  other  brigantines  finished.  He  had  now  four. 
In  these,  with  three  hundred  chosen  men — afo*rce  superior  to 
that  with  which  Pizarro  afterwards  undertook  the  same  ex- 
pedition— our  hero  was  ready  to  sail  towards  Peru,  when  he 
received  an  unexpected  message  from  Davila. 

As  the  Governor’s  reconciliation  with  Balboa  had  never 
been  cordial,  the  progress  which  his  son-in-law  was  making 
revived  his  ancient  enmity,  and  other  circumstances  added 
to  its  rancor.  Calumny  was  busy.  Among  Balboa’s  most 
trusted  followers  was  a Judas  named  Andrew  Garabito, 
a vile  wretch  who  did  everything  by  letter  and  words  of 
mouth  to  blacken  and  betray  his  master. 

This  aroused  the  low,  suspicious  nature  of  Davila.  Be- 
sides, he  dreaded  the  prosperity  and  elevation  of  the  brave 
and  gifted  man  whom  he  had  so  deeply  injured.  He  feared 
that  success  would  encourage  the  Discoverer  of  the  Pacific 
to  aim  at  independence;  and,  in  short,  so  violently  did  the 
passions  of  hatred,  and  fear,  and  jealoiisy  take  possession 
of  his  mind,  that,  in  order  to  gratify  his  vengeance,  he 
scrupled  not  to  defeat  an  enterprise  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance to  his  country. 

Under  pretexts  which  were  false,  but  plausible,  the  Gov- 
ernor desired  Balboa  to  postpone  his  voyage  for  a short 
time,  and  to  repair  to  Alca,  in  order  that  he  might  have  an 
interview  in  relation  to  the  expedition.  Balboa,  with  the  un- 
suspicious confidence  of  an  upright  mind,  instantly  obeyed 
the  summons;  but  as  soon  as  he  entered  the  place,  he  was 
arrested  by  order  of  Davila,  whose  impatience  to  satiate  his 
revenge  did  not  suffer  him  to  languish  long  in  confinement. 


’ Irving. 


VASCO  NUS’EZ  DE  BALBOA. 


235 


The  Governor  even  visited  Balboa  in  prison.  “Be  not 
afflicted,  my  son,”  said  the  base  hypocrite,  on  one  of 
these  occasions,  “an  investigation  will,  doubtless,  not 
merely  establish  your  innocence,  but  serve  to  render  your 
zeal  and  loyalty  towards  your  Sovereign  still  more  con- 
spicuous.” At  the  same  time  he  was  urging  the  judges 
to  proceed  against  our  hero  with  the  utmost  rigor.  The 
trumped-up  charges  of  disloyalty  to  the  King,  and  of  an 
intention  to  revolt  against  the  Governor,  ‘were  preferred 
against  Balboa. 

The  trial  went  on.  Garabito  was  the  chief  witness.  With 
the  bold  effrontery  of  an  accomplished  liar  and  scoundrel,  he 
swore  to  the  truth  of  every  accusation  brought  against  his 
old  master. 

One  day,  after  court  hours,  the  Governor  again  visited 
Balboa  in  prison.  This  time  he  threw  off  the  mask.  “Hither- 
to, I have  treated  you  as  a son,”  he  exclaimed,  “because  I 
thought  you  loyal  to  your  King,  and  to  me  as  his  repre 
sentative ; but,  as  I find  you  have  meditated  rebellion  against 
the  Crown  of  Castile,  I cast  you  off  from  my  affection,  and 
shall  henceforth  treat  you  as  an  enemy.” 

The  noble  Balboa  repelled  the  charge  with  eloquent  indig- 
nation. “Had  I been  conscious  of  my  guilt,”  he  replied, 
“what  could  have  induced  me  to  come  here  and  put  myself 
into  your  hands  ? Had  I meditated  rebellion,  what  prevented 
me  from  carrying  it  into  effect  ? I had  four  ships  ready  to 
weigh  anchor,  three  hundred  brave  men  at  my  command, 
and  an  open  sea  before  me.  What  had  I to  do  but  to  spread 
sail  and  press  forward?  There  was  no  doubt  of  finding  a 
land,  whether  rich  or  poor,  sufficient  for  me  and  mine,  far 
beyond  the  reach  of  your  control.  In  the  innocence  of  my 
heart,  however,  I came  here  promptly,  at  your  mere  request, 
and  my  reward  is  insult — slander — chains !” 

At  length,  the  trial  ended,  and  sentence  of  death  was  un- 
justly pronounced.  But  even  the  judges,  and  the  whole 
colony,  interceded  warmly  for  Balboa’s  pardon.  Davila, 
however,  was  inexorable.  “If  he  has  merited  death,”  ex- 
claimed the  tyrannical  Governor,  clothed  in  a little  brief 


236 


VASCO  NUS'EZ  DE  BALBOA. 


authority,  “let  him  suffer  death!”  He  was,  accordingly, 
condemned  to  be  beheaded. 

Gloom  and  dismay  hung  over  the  rude  town  of  Alca  on 
the  day  of  execution.  The  people  came  forth  to  witness  the 
fearful  spectacle  in  the  public  square.  Well  they  knew 
Balboa,  whose  sterling  qualities  and  brilliant  achievements 
had  so  often  won  their  admiration;  but  now  they  were  tilled 
with  horror  on  seeing  the  great  services  of  such  a brave  man 
repaid  with  naught  but  persecution  and  an  ignominious 
death.  Still,  the  multitude  so  felt  and  feared  the  iron  rule 
of  Davila,  that  not  a voice  was  raised.  The  historian 
Oviedo,  who  was  then  in  the  colony,  assures  us  that  the  brutal 
Governor  was  himself  a secret  witness  of  the  awful  scene. 
He  looked  on  through  small  openings  between  the  reeds  of 
the  wall  of  a house  about  twelve  paces  from  the  scaffold. 
Balboa  made  a last  humble  confession,  and  received  the  Holy 
Communion  with  sentiments  of  profound  faith  and  piety 
He  died  like  a true  Catholic  hero.  Ascending  the  scaffold 
with  a firm  step  and  dignified  demeanor,  he  bent  his  manly 
form,  calmly  laid  his  head  upon  the  block,  and,  in  an 
instant,  the  bright  soul  of  the  illustrious  Discoverer  of  the 
Pacific  Ocean  was  released  from  its  earthly  bondage  ? On 
the  glorious  roll  of  “Ocean  chivalry,”  the  name  of  Balboa  is 
second  only  to  that  of  the  immortal  Columbus. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


HERNANDO  CORTfiS, 

THE 

CONQUEROR  OF  MEXICO  AND  DISCOVERER  OF  CALIFORNIA.  ’ 


CHAPTER  I. 

_ YOUNG  YEARS  OF  THE  CONQUEROR. 

Birth  and  Parents  of  Cortes — Early  years — Sails  for  the 
New  World — First  years  in  America — Is  appointed  to 
command  an  expedition  to  Mexico — Velasquez  and  Cor- 
tes— Difficulties  and  final  preparations— Appearance 
and  manners  of  Cortes — Departure  of  the  fleet. 

Hernando  Cortes  was  born  at  Medellin,  a small  town  in 
Spain,  in  the  year  1485.  He  belonged  to  a good  and  ancient 
family.  His  father,  Don  Marcin  Cortes,  was  a captain  of  in- 
fantry, not  very  wealthy,  bnt  a soldier  of  unsullied  honor;  and 
his  mother,  Doha  Catalina  Pizarro,  we  are  assured,  was  a lady 
of  great  piety  and  worth.” 

His  parents  intended  him  for  the  profession  of  law,  and 
at  the  age  of  fourteen,  young  Hernando  was  sent  to  the  Uni- 
versity of  Salamanca.  He  made  some  progress  in  learning, 
but  after  two  years,  his  ardent  and  restless  genius  became 
disgusted  with  college  life,  and  he  returned  home,  to  the  great 
displeasure  of  his  father  and  mother.  The  student  now  gave 


* Chief  aathorities  used  : Helps,  “The  Life  of  Hernando  Cortes Prescott,  “ History  of  the 
Conquest  of  Mexico,  with  a Preliminary  View  of  the  Ancient  Mexican  Civilization,  and  the  Life 
of  the  Conquerer,  Hernando  Cortes;"’  Robertson.  “The  History  of  America;”  Cortes,  “Dis- 
patches to  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,”  translated  with  notes  by  G.  Folsam  ; Archbishop  Spalding, 
“ Miscellanea,  Comprising  Reviews,  Lectures,  and  Essays,  on  Historical,  Theological,  and  Miscel- 
laneous Subjects.” 

* The  mother  of  Cortes  was  a remarkable  woman,  as  the  mothers  of  distinguished  men  are 
wont  to  be — Hdps. 

An  old  biographer  of  Cortes  writes:  “ Catalina  was  not  inferior  to  any  woman  of  her  time  in 
virtue,  modesty,  and  conjugal  love." 


237 


238 


HERNANDO  CORTM 


himself  up  entirely  to  active  sports  and  martial  exercises. 
His  bold,  impetuous  nature  showed  a particular  leaning  to- 
wards the  military  profession,  and  his  great  desire  was  for  a 
life  of  adventure. 

To  such  an  ever-active  spirit,  the  New  World  was  a most 
inviting  field ; and  in  1504,  in  his  nineteenth  year,  Hernando 
Cortes  received  the  tender  blessing  of  his  parents,  and  some 
money,  and  then  bade  adieu  to  the  sunny  shores  of  his  native 
. land.  He  sailed  in  an  expedition  for  Hispaniola. 

At  that  time,  his  kinsman,  Ovando,  was  Governor  of  the 
island,  and  when  Cortes  landed  at  San  Domingo  he  was  most 
kindly  received.  He  was  at  once  employed  in  several  posi- 
tions of  trust  and  honor.  But  he  was  still  unsatisfied.  Hence, 
when  Velasquez,  in  1511,  undertook  the  conquest  of  Cuba, 
our  hero  gladly  abandoned  his  quiet  life  for  the  stirring 
scenes  there  opened,  and  took  part  in  the  expedition.  In 
this  new  sphere  of  activity,  he  distinguished  himself  so 
much,  that  notwithstanding  some  violent  contests  with  Ve- 
lasquez, occasioned  by  various  trivial  events,  he  was,  at 
length,  taken  into  favor,  and  received  large  grants  of  lands 
and  Indians  as  a recompense  for  his  services. 

Cortes  now  settled  down  in  Cuba,  near  the  town  of  St. 
Jago,  of  which  he  was  afterwards  appointed  magistrate. 
He  lived  on  his  estate,  and  devoted  himself  to  agriculture. 
In  a few  years  wealth  flowed  in  to  him  in  abundance ; and, 
it  appears,  he  added  to  his  fortune  and  his  happiness,  at 
this  time,  by  marrying  a worthy  and  beautiful  lady,  a 
country-woman  of  his  own,  named  Dona  Catalina  Juarez. 

Though  Cortes  had  not  hitherto  acted  in  high  command, 
he  had  displayed  such  qualities  in  several  scenes  of  diffi- 
culty and  danger,  as  gave  him  a bright  reputation,  and 
turned  the  eyes  of  the  Spaniards  towards  him  as  one  capa- 
ble of  performing  great  deeds.  The  turbulence  of  youth, 
as  soon  as  he  found  objects  and  occupations  suited  to  the  ar- 
dor of  his  mind,  gradually  subsided,  and  settled  into  habits 
of  regular,  unceasing  activity. 

The  impetuosity  of  his  temper,  when  he  came  to  act  with 
his  equals,  insensibly  abated,  by  being  kept  under  restraint. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


23'J 

and  ripened  into  a cordial  soldierly  frankness.  These  quali- 
ties were  accompanied  by  calm  prudence  in  concerting  his 
schemes,  by  persevering  vigor  in  executing  them,  and  by  what 
is  peculiar  to  superior  genius — ^the  art  of  gaining  the  confi- 
dence and  governing  the  minds  of  men.  To  all  these  were 
added  the  smaller  accomplishments  that  strike  the  vulgar 
and  command  their  respect — a graceful  person,  a winning 
countenance,  remarkable  skill  in  warlike  exercises,  and  a 
constitution  of  such  iron  vigor  as  to  be  capable  oi  enduring 
~r.y  fatigue.  Such  was  the  man  finally  selected  by  Gover- 
nor Velasquez  to  command  the  expedition  which  was  to 
visit  and  explore  the  recently  discovered  empire  of  Mexico.' 

Cortes  received  his  commission  with  the  warmest  expres- 
sions of  respect  and  gratitude.  He  immediately  erected  his 
standard  before  his  own  house,  appeared  in  a military  dress, 
and  assumed  all  the  marks  of  his  new  dignity.  His  utmost 
influence  and  activity  were  exerted  in  persuading  his  friends 
to  engage  in  the  service,  and  in  urging  forward  the  prepa 
rations  for  the  voyage.  All  his  own  funds,  together  with 
what  money  he  could  raise  by  mortgaging  his  lands  and 
Indians,  were  expended  in  purchasing  military  stores  and 
provisions,  or  in  supplying  the  wants  of  such  of  his  ofiicers 
as  were  unable  to  equip  themselves  in  a manner  suited  to 
their  rank. 

Inoifensive  and  even  praiseworthy  as  this  conduct  was,  the 
disappointed  competitors  of  Cortes  Avere  malicious  enough 
to  give  it  a turn  to  his  disadvantage.  They  represented  him 
as  already  aiming — even  with  httle  disguise — at  establishing 
an  independent  authority  over  his  troops,  and  endeavoring 
to  secure  their  respect  or  love  by  his  showy  and  interested 
liberality  They  reminded  Velasquez  of  his  former  dissen- 
sions with  the  man  in  whom  he  now  reposed  so  much  con- 
fidence, and  foretold  that  Cortes  would  be  more  apt  to  avail 
himself  of  the  power  which  the  Governor  was  inconsider- 
ately putting  in  his  hands,  to  avenge  past  injuries,  than  to 


‘ Juan  de  Grijalva,  a Spanish  navigator  sent  out  by  the  Governor  of  Cuba,  discovered  Mexico 
m the  spring  of  1518.  Bernal  Diaz  and  Pedro  de  Alvarado— two  names  well  known  in  early 
American  history — were  in  this  expedition. 


240 


HERNANDO  CORTHS 


repay  recent  obligations.  Sucb  insinuations  did  not  fail 
impress  the  suspicious  mind  of  Velasquez. 

It  is  said  an  accidental  circumstance  likewise  added  to 
these  suspicions.  One  day  Cortes  and  the  Governor  were 
taking  their  morning  walk  together  towards  the  port.  A 
crack-brained  jester  called  out:  “Have  a care,  Master  Ve- 
lasquez, or  we  shall  have  to  go  a-hunting,  some  day  or  other, 
after  this  same  Captain  of  ours!  ” 

“Do  you  hear  what  the  rogue  says?”  exclaimed  the  Gov- 
ernor to  his  companion. 

“Do  not  heed  him,”  remarked  Cortes.  “He  is  a saucy 
knave,  and  deserves  a good  whipping.”  But  Velasquez  was 
far  from  forgetting  the  fool’s  warning.  His  distrust  of  Cor- 
tes grew  day  by  day,  and  friends  in  power  advised  the 
young  Commander  to  hasten  his  departure.  On  this  occa- 
sion he  showed  the  same  prompt  decision  which  more  than 
once  afterwards,  in  perils  and  adventures,  gave  the  direc- 
tion to  his  destiny. 

The  Governor’s  instructions  for  the  conduct  of  the  expedi- 
tion deserve  a w'ord  or  two  here.  They  were  drawn  up  with 
wisdom.  Cortes  was  first  to  find  Grijalva.*  He  was  then  to 
release  six  Christians  said  to  be  in  captivity  in  Yucatan. 
Trade  with  the  natives  was  another  great  object  of  the  ex- 
pedition. This  was  to  be  done  with  care  and  kindness,  for 
Cortes  was  to  bear  in  mind  that  the  conversion  of  the  In- 
dians was  a matter  of  the  highest  importance.  He  was  to 
make  an  accurate  survey  of  the  coast  for  the  benefit  of  fu- 
ture navigators.  He  was  to  familiarize  himself  with  the 
country,  its  people,  and  its  institutions;  and,  finally,  he  was 
to  take  the  most  caref  ul  care  to  omit  nothing  that  might 
redound  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  honor  of  his  sover- 
ereigns.  Thus  religion,  science,  and  commerce  were  each  to 
receive  due  attention.  By  this  commission  Cortes  was  rec- 
ognized as  Captain-General  of  the  expedition.’ 

Our  hero  urged  forward  the  preparations  with  such  ra- 
pidity that  he  set  sail  from  St.  Jago  on  the  18th  of  Novem- 


> Grijalva  had  not  yet  returned  from  the  voyage  in  which  he  discovered  Mexico. 

> Prescott. 


HERNANDO  C0RT£S. 


241 


ber.  Velasquez  accompanied  him  to  the  shore,  and  took 
leave  with  an  appearance,  it  is  said,  of  perfect  confidence  and 
friendship.  He  had  secretly,  however,  charged  some  of  the 
officers  of  the  armament  to  keep  a watchful  eye  on  the  con- 
duct of  their  Commander.' 

Cortes  proceeded  to  Trinidad,  a small  settlement  on  the 
same  side  of  the  island,  where  he  was  joined  by  several  ad- 
venturers, and  received  a supply  of  provisions  and  military 
stores,  of  which  his  stock  was  still  very  incomplete.  He 
had  hardly  left  St.  Jago,  however,  when  the  jealousy  which 
had  been  working  in  the  breast  of  the  Governor  grew  so 
violent  that  to  suppress  it  any  longer  was  impossible.  Sus- 
picion, with  fresh  vigor,  aroused  his  diseased  imagination. 
The  rivals  of  Cortes  did  not  fail  to  increase  his  fears.  All 
these  influences  produced  the  desired  effect.  Velasquez  now 
bitterly  repented  of  his  own  imprudence  in  having  com- 
mitted a trust  of  such  vast  importance  to  the  future  Con- 
queror of  Mexico.  In  short,  he  hastily  dispatched  orders  to* 
the  chief  magistrate  at  Trinidad, to  arrest  Cortes  and  deprive 
him  of  his  commis.sion.  For  various  reasons  dictated  by 
prudence  the  magistrate  disregarded  these  instructions,  and 
the  armament  was  permitted  to  depart  from  Trinidad  with- 
out molestation. 

From  Trinidad  :Cortes  sailed  for  Havana,  in  order  to  raise 
more  soldiers,  and  to  complete  the  victualing  of  his  fleet. 
There  several  persons  of  distinction  joined  the  expedition, 
and  engaged  to  supply  what  provisions  were  still  wanting. 
But  to  accomplish  this,  time  was  necessary.  Velasquez  felt 
that  he  ought  no  longer  to  rely  upon  a man  whom  he  had  so 
openly  mistrusted,  and  availed  himself  of  the  unavoidable 
delay,  to  make  one  more  attempt  to  wrest  the  command  out 
of  the  hand  of  Cortes.' 


• Las  Casas.whom  Prescott  follows,  gives  a different  version.  Cortes,  in  his  hurry,  made  prepa- 
rations to  sail  at  dawn  of  day.  When  the  Governor  heard  that  the  fleet  was  about  to  depart,  he 
hastily  galloped  down  to  the  wharf.  Cortes  entered  an  armed  boat,  and  came  within  speaking 
distance.  “Is  it  thus  that  yon  part  from  me?”  exclaimed  the  angry  Velasquez.  “A  courteous 
way  of  taking  leave,  tmlyl”  “Pardon  me,”  said  Cort4s;  “time  presses,  and  there  are  some 
things  that  should  be  done  before  they  are  even  thought  of.  Has  your  Exeellency  any  com- 
mands?” The  indignant  Governor  had  none,  and  Cortes  gave  a parting  adieu  with  a polite  wave 
of  his  hand. — HUtory  of  the  Conquest  of  Mejcico. 


242 


HERNANDO  C0RT^8. 


He  dispatched  a trusty  officer  to  the  Lieutenant-Governor 
at  Havana,  with  the  most  positive  orders  instantly  to  seize 
Cortes,  and  to  send  him  a prisoner  under  a strong  guard  to 
St.  Jago.  The  sailing  of  the  fleet  was  also  to  be  counter- 
manded until  further  orders.  But  before  the  arrival  of  this 
messenger,  a Franciscan  Father  of  St.  Jago  had  secretly 
conveyed  an  account  of  this  interesting  toansaction  to  Father 
Bartholomew  de  Olmedo,  0.  S.  F.,who  acted  as  chaplain  to 
the  expedition. 

Forewarned  was  forearmed.  Cortes  had  time  to  take  pre 
cautions  for  his  own  safety.  His  first  step  was  to  find  some 
pretext  for  removing  from  Havana,  James  de  Ordaz,  an  officer 
of  great  merit,  but  in  whom,  on  account  of  his  known  attach- 
ment to  Velasquez,  he  could  not  place  confidence  in  this  try- 
ing and  delicate  juncture.  He,  therefore,  gave  him  the  com 
mand  of  a vessel,  destined  to  take  on  board  some  provisions 
to  a small  harbor  beyond  Cape  Antonio;  and  thus  made 
secure  of  his  absence,  without  seeming  to  suspect  his 
fidelity. 

When  Ordaz  was  gone,  Cortes  no  longer  concealed  from 
his  troops  the  designs  of  Velasquez.  The  officers  and  sol- 
diers were  equally  impatient  to  set  out  on  an  expedition,  in 
preparing  for  which  most  of  them  had  expended  all  their 
fortunes;  and,  on  hearing  such  news,  they  expressed  their 
astonishment  and  indignation  at  that  illiberal  jealousy,  to 
which  the  Governor  was  about  to  sacrifice,  not  only  the 
honor  of  their  General,  but  their  own  ardent  hopes  of  glory 
and  wealth. 

With  one  voice  they  entreated  their  Commander  not  to 
abandon  the  important  station  to  which  he  had  such  a good 
title.  They  warmly  conjured  him  not  to  deprive  them  of  a 
leader  whom  they  followed  with  such  unbounded  confi 
dence,  and  offered  to  shed  the  last  drop  of  their  blood  in 
maintaining  his  authority.  Cortes  was  easily  induced  to 
comply  with  what  he  himself  so  ardently  desired.  He.  de- 
clared with  deep  solemnity  that  he  would  never  desert  sol- 
diers who  had  given  him  such  a signal  proof  of  their  attach- 
ment, and  promised  at  once  to  conduct  them  to  that  rich 


HERNANDO  G0RT^!8. 


243 


country  which  had  been  so  long  the  object  of  their  thoughts. 
This  declaration  was  received  with  wild  applause. 

Everything  was  now  ready  for  the  departure.  But  al- 
though this  expedition  was  fitted  out  by  the  united  efforts 
of  the  Spanish  power  in  Cuba;  though  every  settlement  had 
contributed  its  quota  of  men  and  provisions;  though  Cortes 
had  laid  out  considerable  sums,  and  each  adventurer  had  ex- 
hausted his  stock  or  strained  his  credit,  the  poverty  of  the 
preparations  was  such  as  must  astonish  the  present  age,  con- 
sidering the  vast  object  in  view.  It  was  an  armament  des- 
tined for  the  conquest  of  a great  empire. 

The  fleet  consisted  of  eleven  vessels.  The  largest  carried 
about  one  hundred  tons,  and  was  dignified  with  the  name  of 
The  Admiral.  Three  were  of  seventy  or  eighty  tons,  and 
the  rest  were  small  open  barks.  On  board  of  these  were  six 
hundred  and  seventeen  men,  of  which  five  hundred  and 
eight  belonged  to  the  land  service,  and  one  hundred  and  nine 
were  mariners.  According  to  the  number  of  ships,  the  sol- 
diers were  divided  into  eleven  companies.  To  each  ship 
Cortes  appointed  a captain,  and  charged  him  with  the  com- 
mand of  the  vessel  while  at  sea,  and  of  the  men  when  on 
shore. 

As  the  use  of  fire-arms  among  the  nations  of  Europe  was 
hitherto  confined  to  a few  battalions  of  regularly  disciplined 
infantry,  only  thirteen  soldiers  were  armed  with  muskets, 
thirty-two  were  cross-bowmen,  and  the  rest  had  swords  and 
spears.  Instead  of  the  usual  defensive  armor — which  would 
have  been  too  cumbersome  in  a very  hot  climate — the  sol- 
diers wore  jackets  quilted  with  cotton.  Experience  had 
proved  that  this  was  a sufficient  protection  against  the 
weapons  of  the  Indians. 

The  principal  standard  was  of  black  velvet,  embroidered 
with  gold,  and  emblazoned  with  a red  cross,  amid  flames  of 
white  and  blue,  with  this  motto  in  Latin  beneath:  Friends, 
let  us  follow  the  Cross;  and  under  this  sign,  if  we  hare 
faith,  we  shall  conquer.'^'' ' 

Cortes  at  this  time,  writes  the  classic  Prescott,  was  thirty- 


> Prescott. 


244 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


three,  or  perhaps  thirty-four  years  of  age.  In  stature  he  was 
rather  above  the  middle  size.  His  complexion  was  pale; 
and  his  large  dark  eye  gave  an  expression  of  gravity  to  his 
countenance,  not  to  have  been  expected  in  his  cheerful  tern 
perament.  His  figure  was  slender,  at  least  until  later  in  life; 
but  his  chest  was  deep,  his  shoulders  broad,  his  frame  mus 
cular  and  well-proportioned.  It  presented  the  union  of 
agility  and  vigor  which  qualified  him  to  excel  in  fencing, 
horsemanship,  and  the  other  generous  exercises  of  chivalry 

In  his  diet  he  was  temperate,  careless  of  what  he  ate,  and 
drinking  little ; while  to  toil  and  privation  he  seemed  per- 
fectly indifferent.  His  dress — for  he  did  not  disdain  the 
impression  produced  by  such  adventitious  aids — was  such 
as  to  set  off  his  handsome  person  to  advantage;  neither 
gaudy  nor  striking,  but  rich.  He  wore  few  ornaments,  and 
usually  the  same ; but  those  were  of  great  price. 

His  manners,  frank  and  soldier-like,  concealed  a most  cool 
and  calculating  spirit.  With  his  gayest  humor  there  min- 
gled a settled  air  of  resolution,  which  made  those  who 
approached  him  feel  they  must  obey,  and  which  infused 
something  like  awe  into  the  attachment  of  his  most  devoted 
followers.  Such  a combination,  in  which  love  was  tempered 
by  authority,  was  the  one  probably  best  calculated  to  inspire 
devotion  in  the  rough  and  turbulent  spirits  among  whom  his 
lot  was  to  be  cast.  ‘ 

His  address  to  his  soldiers  before  departing  was  character- 
istic. “ I hold  out  to  you  a glorious  prize,”  said  the  intrepid 
General,  “but  it  is  to  be  won  by  incessant  toil.  Great  things 
are  achieved  only  by  great  exertions,  and  glory  was  never 
the  reward  of  sloth.  . . You  are  few  in  number,  but  strong 
in  resolution  ; and,  if  this  does  not  falter,  doubt  not  but  that 
the  Almighty,  who  has  never  deserted  the  Spaniard,  in  his 
contest  with  the  Infidel,  will  shield  you,  though  encompassed 
by  a cloud  of  enemies  ; for  your  cause  is  a just  cause,  and 
you  are  to  fight  under  the  banner  of  the  Cross.  Go  forward, 
then,  with  alacrity  and  confidence,  and  carry  to  a glorious 
issue  the  work  so  auspiciously  begun.” 


J “History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico.” 


HEBNANDO  CORTES. 


345 


Holy  Mass  was  then  celebrated  with  great  solemnity,  and 
the  fleet  placed  under  the  special  protection  of  the  Apostle 
St.  Peter,  the  patron  saint  of  Cortes.*  All  was  now  in  readi- 
ness, and  on  the  18th  of  February,  1519,  the  armament 
Bailed  for  the  coast  of  Yucatan. 


> Two  piiesU.  Fathers  John  Diaz  and  Bartholomew  de  Ohnedo^  accompanied  the  expeditioo. 


CHAPTER  11. 

BEGINNING  OF  THE  ROAD  THAT  LED  TO  AN  UNKNOWN  EMPIRE. 

Redeems  a holy  and  useful  captive — A rude  reception — 
The  first  battle  with  the  Indians — The  second — Plant- 
ing the  Faith — Palm  Sunday  in  a wild  Land — Away 

for  Mexico — New  visitors  and  methods  of  interpretations 
— Dona  Marina — Montezuma^  the  Mexican  Emperor— 
An  interview  and  its  results — Indian  painters — Aston- 
ishment of  the  Mexicans. 

As  Cortes  determined  to  touch  at  every  place  which  Grri- 
jalva  had  visited,  he  steered  directly  towards  the  island  ot 
Cozumel.*  Here  he  treated  the  natives  with  great  kindness; 
and  had  the  good  fortune  to  redeem  Jerome  de  Aguilar,  a 
Spanish  ecclesiastic,  who  had  been  eight  years  a prisoner 
among  the  Indians.  Aguilar  was  perfectly  acquainted  with 
several  of  the  Indian  dialects,  and  was  a man  of  prudence 
and  tried  virtue.  He  proved  extremely  useful  as  an  inter- 
preter. 

Leaving  Cozumel,  Cortes  doubled  Cape  Catoche,  swept 
down  the  broad  Bay  of  Campeachy,  and  cast  anchor  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Tabasco.  A sand-bar  left  the  water  shallow  at 
the  entrance  to  the  river.  Mangrove  trees  studded  the 
banks,  and  many  an  Indian  cast  suspicious  glances  from 
among  this  matted  forest  at  the  Spanish  squadron. 

Cortes,  through  his  interpreter,  asked  permission  to  dis- 
embark; but  he  was  answered  with  angry  gestures  and 
shouts  of  defiance.  He  landed  his  troops,  however,  and 
assured  the  natives  that  all  he  wished  was  a free  passage  for 
his  men.  He  desired,  he  said,  to  be  on  friendly  terms  ; if  it 
came  to  bloodshed,  the  sin  would  rest  on  their  own  heads. 


> A imall  island  oS  the  eastern  coast  of  Yucatan. 


246 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


247 


The  sa  j/.^es  raised  a fierce  war-cry,  and  a shower  of  arrows 
fell  ov  il’.e  Spaniards. 

Tli  • ..’vjdians  were  numerous,  and  fought  with  desperation. 
At  Mr.t,  it  was  a hand-to-hand  struggle  on  the  slippery 
barJis  of  the  stream.  Cortes  led  the  attack  in  person,  and 
beneath  his  iron  blows  sank  many  a dusky  warrior.  He  at- 
tracted such  attention  that  the  savages  were  heard  to  call 
out  to  one  another:  Strike  at  the  chief !”  When  at 

length  the  higher  ground  was  fairly  gained,  the  troops  fell 
into  order,  and  opened  fire  on  the  wild  men,  who  retreated 
in  dismay  to  the  town  of  Tabasco.  It  was  soon  taken  by 
the  Spaniards. 

The  whole  country  was  now  in  arms.  And  thus,  at  the 
very  beginning,  Cortes  found  himself  entangled  in  an  un- 
profitable conflict  with  overwhelming  foes.  There  was  no 
alternative,  however,  but  to  fight,  or  beat  a hasty  and  in- 
glorious retreat.  But  the  Conqueror  of  Mexico  never 
turned  his  back  on  the  foe,  and  he  only  waited  for  the  mor- 
row to  say,  “Forward!”  It  was  the  25th  of  March,  the  Festi- 
val of  the  Annunciation,  1519.  The  sun  rose  on  the  little 
army  as  it  devoutly  heard  Mass,  and  then  sallied  forth  for 
the  battle-field. 

On  the  broad  plains  of  Ceutla  about  40,000  Indians  were 
drawn  up  in  hostile  array.  They  had  chosen  a good  posi- 
tion. As  the  weary  Spaniards  marched  slowly  in  sight  over 
the  swampy  ground  that  separated  the  combatants,  a \Adld 
yeU  broke  from  the  dusky  lines,  and  the  work  of  death  and 
carnage  began.  The  guns  made  terrible  havoc  in  the  dense 
columns  of  the  Tabascans ; but  regardless  of  danger,  the 
countless  multitude  of  barbarians  pressed  the  troops  on  every 
side.  All  at  once,  the  rear  of  the  savages  appeared  to  be 
thrown  into  disorder.  It  was  not  long,  writes  the  American 
historian  of  the  Conquest,  before  the  ears  of  the  Christians 
were  saluted  with  the  cheering  war-cry  of  “San  Jago  and 
San  Pedro ! ” and  they  beheld  the  bright  helmets  and  swords 
of  the  Castilian  chivalry  flashing  back  the  rays  of  the  moj-n- 
ing  sun,  as  they  dashed  through  the  ranks  of  the  enemy, 
striking  to  the  right  and  left,  and  scattering  dismay  around 


248 


HERNANDO  CORTtlS. 


them.  The  eye  of  faith,  indeed,  could  discern  the  Patron 
Saint  of  Spain*  himself,  mounted  on  his  gray  war  horse, 
leading  the  rescue  and  trampling  over  the  bodies  of  the 
fallen  infidels. 

Thus  Cortes  and  his  little  band  of  cavalry  changed  the 
tide  of  battle.  The  rout  of  the  Indians  was  complete. 
The  loss  which  they  sustained,  and  still  more  the  astonish 
ment  and  terror  excited  by  the  destructive  effect  of  the  fire 
arms,  and  the  dreadful  appearance  of  the  horses,  humbled 
their  fierce  spirits,  and  induced  them  to  sue  lor  peace  In 
short,  the  chiefs  and  warriors  of  Tabasco  acknowledged  the 
King  of  Castile  as  their  Sovereign,  and  granted  Cortes  a sup 
ply  of  provisions,  with  a present  of  cotton  garments,  some 
gold,  and  twenty  female  slaves. 

Nor  did  the  Spanish  Commander  forget  that  the  spread  of 
the  Catholic  faith  was  one  of  the  first  objects  of  the  expedi- 
tion. The  venerable  Father  Olmedo  and  his  companion. 
Father  Diaz,  did  what  they  could  to  enlighten  the  crude 
intellects  of  the  Tabascans.  The  Gospel  was  preached,  pa- 
ganism denounced,  and  the  holy  seed,  it  appears,  fell  on 
good  ground.  In  a body  the  Indians  embraced  the  faith. 
The  beautiful  ceremonial  of  the  day  following  this  joyous 
event  is  thus  pictured  by  the  graphic  pen  of  a Protestant 
historian : The  next  day  was  Palm  Sunday.  ...  A solemn 
procession  was  formed  of  the  whole  army,  with  the  ecclesi- 
astics at  their  head,  each  soldier  bearing  a palm  branch  in 
his  hand.  The  concourse  was  swelled  by  thousands  of  In- 
dians of  both  sexes,  who  followed  in  curious  astonishment 


* St.  James. 

’ “History  of  the  Conquest  ot  Mexico.” 

Concerning  this  battle,  Bemai  Diaz,  the  brave  soldier-historian  of  the  conquest,  writes:  “i 
acknowledge  that  aM  our  exploits  and  victories  are  owing  to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  that  m 
this  battle  there  was  such  a number  of  Indians  to  every  one  of  us  that,  it  each  had  thrown  a 
handful  of  earth,  they  might  have  buried  us,  if  by  the  great  mercy  of  God  we  had  not  been  pro- 
tected. It  may  be  that  the  person  whom  Gomara  mentions  as  having  appeared  on  a mottled  gray 
horse  was  the  glorious  Signor  St.  James,  or  Signor  St.  Peter,  and  that  I,  being  a sinner,  was  not- 
worthy  to  see  him.  This  I know,  that  I saw  Francis  de  Morals  on  such  a horse,  but  as  an  un- 
worthy transgressor,  I did  not  deserve  to  see  any  of  the  holy  Apostles.  It  may  have  been  the  will 
»f  God  that  it  was  so,  as  Gomara  relates,  but  until  I read  his  chronicle,  I never  heard  among  any 
•f  the  conquerors  that  such  a thing  had  happened.” 

’ The  Indians  had  never  seen  horses  before. 


HERNAIS'DO  CORTES. 


249 


at  the  spectacle.  The  long  files  bent  their  way  through  the 
flowery  savannas  that  bordered  the  settlement,  to  the  prin- 
cipal temple,  where  an  altar  was  raised,  and  the  image  of 
the  presiding  deity  was  deposed  to  make  room  for  that  of 
the  Virgin  with  the  Infant  Saviour.  Mass  was  celebrated 
by  Father  Olmedo,  and  the  soldiers  who  were  capable  joined  in 
the  solemn  chant.  The  natives  listened  in  profound  silence, 
and,  if  we  may  believe  the  chronicler  of  the  event,  who  wit- 
nessed it,  were  melted  into  tears;  Avhile  their  hearts  were 
penetrated  with  reverential  awe  for  the  Grod  of  those  terri- 
ble beings  who  seemed  to  wield  in  their  own  hands  the 
. thunder  and  the  lightning.' 

When  these  solemnities  were  concluded,  Cortes  and  his 
force  re-embarked,  and  continued  their  course  towards  the 
golden  land  of  Mexico.  The  island  of  San  Juan  de  Ulloa, 
on  the  coast,  was  soon  reached.  As  the  fleet  entered  this 
harbor,  a large  canoe  full  of  people,  among  whom  were  two 
who  seemed  to  be  persons  of  distinction,  approached  the 
Commander’s  ship  with  signs  of  peace  and  friendship. 

They  came  on  board  without  fear  or  distrust,  and  ad- 
dressed him  in  a most  respectful  manner,  but  in  a language 
altogether  unknown  to  Aguilar.  Cortes  was  in  the  utmost 
perplexity.  The  great  schemes  which  he  meditated  could 
never  be  accomplished  if  he  had  to  depend  on  such  an  im- 
perfect mode  of  communication  as  the  use  of  signs.  But 
he  did  not  remain  long  in  this  embarrassing  situation.  A 
fortunate  accident  extricated  him,  when  his  own  sagacity 
could  have  contributed  but  little  towards  his  relief. 

One  of  the  female  slaves  whom  he  had  received  from  the 
chief  of  Tabasco  happened  to  be  present  at  the  first  inter- 
view between  Cortes  and  his  new  guests.  She  perceived  his 
distress,  as  well  as  the  confusion  of  Aguilar;  and  as  she  per- 
fectly understood  the  Mexican  language,  she  explained  what 
they  had  said  in  the  Yucatan  tongue,  with  which  Aguilar 
was  acquainted. 

This  woman — known  afterwards  by  the  name  of  Dona 
Marina — was  born  in  one  of  the  provinces  of  the  Mexican 


> Prescott. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


250 


empire.  She  makes  quite  a conspicuous  figure  in  the  early 
history  of  the  New  World.  Having  been  sold  as  a slave  in 
her  youth,  after  a variety  of  adventures,  she  fell  into  the 
hands  of  the  Tabascans,  and  had  resided  long  enough  among 
them  to  acquire  their  language,  without  losing  the  use  of 
her  own.  Though  it  was  both  tedious  and  troublesome  to 
converse  by  the  intervention  of  two  different  interpreters, 
Cortes  was  highly  pleased  with  having  discovered  this 
method  of  carrying  on  some  intercourse  with  the  people  of 
a country  into  which  he  was  determined  to  penetrate.  He 
considered  it  a visible  manifestation  of  Providence  in  his 
favor. *  * 

The  Spanish  Co.uuiander  now  learned  that  the  two  per- 
sons whom  he  had  received  on  board  his  ships  were  depu- 
ties sent  by  a great  monarch  named  Montezuma.'^  They 
were  requested  to  inquire  what  his  intentions  were  in  visit- 
ing their  coast;  and  to  offer  him  any  assistance  he  might 
need  in  order  to  continue  his  voyage.  Cortes  was  struck 
with  the  appearance  of  these  officers,  as  well  as  the  tenor  of 
their  message.  He  assured  them  that  he  approached  their 
country  with  the  most  friendly  sentiments,  and  came  to  pro- 
pose matters  of  great  importance  to  the  welfare  of  their 
prince  and  his  kingdom. 

Next  morning,  without  waiting  for  any  answer,  he  landed 
the  troops,  horses,  and  artillery ; and  having  chosen  proper 
ground,  began  to  erect  huts  for  his  men  and  to  fortify  his 
camp/  The  natives,  with  kindly  interest,  lent  all  the  assist- 
ance in  their  power. 

On  Easter  Sunday  one  of  the  deputies— the  cacique  of  the 
Mexican  province  in  which  the  Spaniards  were  then  making 


* At  first,  the  process  of  interpretation  went  in  this  way:  Cortes  spoke  to  Father  Aguilar  in 
Spanish;  he  translated  it  into  Yucatanese;  and  then  Doiia  Marina  rendered  it  into  Mexican. 
After  a Uttle  time,  the  beautiful  Doha  Marina  learned  Spanish;  and  then  the  services  of  Aguilar 
were  dispensed  with.  If  a medal  had  been  struck  to  commemorate  the  great  deeds  of  Cortes,  the 
head  of  Doha  Marina  should  have  been  associated  with  that  of  Cortes  on  the  race  of  the  medal, 
for,  without  her  aid,  his  conquest  of  Mexico  would  never  have  been  accomplished.— 

® According  to  Las  Casas,  Montezuma  signified  “ sad  or  severe  man." 

* This  was  on  Good  Friday,  April  21st.  On  the  same  spot  now  stands  the  modem  city  of  Yera 
Cruz.  Little  did  the  Conqueror  imagine  that  the  desolate  beach  on  which  he  first  planted  his 
foot  was  one  day  to  be  covered  with  a flourishing  city — the  great,  mart  of  European  and  Oriental 
trade,  the  commercial  capital  of  New  Spain. — Prescott. 


HERNANDO  CORTtZ. 


251 


their  stay — visited  Cortes.  His  name  was  Teuhtlile.  He 
came  with  a numerous  retinue,  and  Cortes  received  him  with 
much  ceremony.  Father  Olmedo  celebrated  Holy  Mass,  at 
which  the  Indian  official  and  his  attendants  were  present. 
Then  occurred  the  interview. 

The  Spanish  Commander  stated  the  object  of  his  visit. 
He  was  the  subject,  he  said,  of  a powerful  monarch  beyond 
the  seas,  who  ruled  over  an  immense  empire,  and  had  kings 
and  princes  for  his  vassals  ; that — acquainted  with  the  great- 
ness of  the  Mexican  Emperor — his  master  had  desired  I'o 
enter  into  a communication  with  him,  and  had  sent  him  as 
liis  envoy  to  wait  on  Montezuma  with  a present  in  token 
of  his  good-will,  and  a message  which  he  must  deliver  in 
person. 

“How  is  it,”  answered  the  dusky  noble,  “that  you  have 
been  here  only  two  days,  and  demand  to  see  the  Emperor?” 
Assuming  a more  courteous  air,  he  then  added  that  he  was 
surprised  to  hear  that  there  was  another  ruler  as  powerful 
as  Montezuma,  but  that,  if  it  were  so,  he  had  no  doubt  his 
master  would  be  happy  to  communicate  with  him.  He 
w'ould  send  his  couriers  with  the  royal  gifts  brought  by 
Cortes,  and,  so  soon  as  he  had  learned  Montezuma’s  will, 
would  communicate  it. 

The  gifts  for  the  Spanish  General  were  now  brought  for- 
w'ard.  They  were  introduced  with  great  parade,  and  con- 
sisted of  ten  loads  of  fine  cotton  cloth,  several  mantles  of 
exquisite  feather- work,  and  a basket  of  gold  and  silver  orna- 
ments. The  workmanship  was  as  curious  as  the  materials 
were  rich.  All  these  Cortes  received  with  due  acknowl- 
edgments, and  then  gave  the  Mexican  chief  the  presents  for 
Montezuma. 

During  this  interview  some  Indian  painters  had  been  dili- 
gently employed  in  drawdng  upon  white  cotton  cloth  figures 
of  the  ships,  horses,  artillery,  soldiers,  and  whatever  else 
attracted  their  attention.  When  Cortes  observed  this,  and 
was  informed  that  these  pictures  were  to  be  sent  to  Monte- 
zuma, in  order  to  convey  to  him  a more  lively  idea  of  the 
strange  and  wonderful  objects  now  presented  to  their  view, 


252 


HERNANDO  CORTHS. 


than  any  words  could  communicate,  he  resolved  to  render 
the  representation  still  more  animated  and  interesting.  He 
determined  to  exhibit  such  a spectacle  as  would  most  likely 
give  both  them  and  their  haughty  monarch  an  awful  impres- 
sion of  the  extraordinary  prowess  of  the  Spaniards,  and  the 
irresistible  force  of  their  arms. 

By  his  order,  the  trumpets  sounded  an  alarm,  In  a mo- 
ment, the  troops  formed  in  order  of  battle.  The  infantry 
went  through  such  martial  exercises  as  were  best  suited  to 
display  the  effect  of  their  different  weapons.  In  various 
evolutions,  the  horse  gave  a specimen  of  their  agility  and 
strength.  The  artillery  was  pointed  towards  the  thick 
woods  which  surrounded  the  camp,  the  cannon  were  fired 
off,  and  great  was  the  havoc  which  the  balls  made  among  the 
trees. 

The  Mexicans  looked  on  in  silent  amazement.  To  them 
the  sight  was  strange  and  awful.  But  at  the  explosion  of 
the  cannon  many  of  them  fled,  some  fell  to  the  ground,  and 
all  were  confounded  at  the  skill  of  men  whose  power  so 
nearly  resembled  that  of  the  gods.  In  truth,  Cortes  found  it 
difficult  to  compose  and  reassure  the  dusky  multitude.  The 
painters  had  now  many  new  objects  on  which  to  exercise 
their  art,  and  they  put  their  fancy  on  the  stretch  to  invent 
figures  and  symbols  to  represent  the  extraordinary  things 
which  they  had  seen. 


CHAPTER  III. 

CORTES  OUTWITS  MONTEZUMA. 

The  Spanish  General  and  the  Mexican  oj^cials — Great 
presents  to  Cortes —The  wishes  of  Montezuma — De 
mand  of  Cortes — His  firmness — His  hopes. 

Messengers  were  at  once  dispatched  to  Montezuma  with 
the  pictures,  and  a full  account  of  everything  that  had 
passed  since  the  arrival  of  the  Siianiards.  By  these  also 
Cortes  sent  his  presents  to  the  Emperor. 

The  Mexican  monarchs,  in  order  to  obtain  early  informa- 
tion in  relation  to  every  corner  of  their  extensive  domin- 
ions, had  introduced  a singular  refinement  in  police.  They 
had  couriers  posted  at  proper  stations  along  the  principal 
roads;  and  as  these  were  trained  to  swiftness  by  a regular 
education,  and  relieved  one  another  at  moderate  distances, 
they  conveyed  intelhgence  with  remarkable  rapidity. 

Though  the  capital  in  which  Montezuma  resided  was  over 
one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  from  San  Juan  de  Ulloa,  the 
gifts  of  the  Spanish  General  were  carried  thither,  and  an 
answer  to  his  demands  received  in  a few  days. 

The  same  officers  who  had  hitherto  treated  with  the  Span- 
iards were  employed  to  deliver  this  answer.  But  they  knew 
well  how  repugnant  would  be  the  determination  of  their 
master  to  the  Avishes  of  Cortes.  Accordingly,  they  did  not 
hastily  venture  to  make  it  known.  They  first  tried  to  soothe 
and  mollify  the  Spanish  General.  For  this  purpose,  they 
renewed  their  negotiation  by  introducing  a train  of  one  hun- 
dred Indians,  loaded  with  presents  sent  to  him  by  Mon- 
tezuma. 

The  magnificence  of  these  was  such  as  became  a great 
monarch.  They  were  placed  on  mats  spread  on  the  ground, 

253 


254 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


in  such  order  as  showed  them  to  the  greatest  advantage. 
Cortes  and  his  officers  viewed  the  manufactures  of  the 
country  with  admiration.  There  were  to  be  seen  cotton  stuffs 
so  fine  as  to  resemble  silk:  and  pictures  of  trees,  animals, 
and  other  natural  objects,  formed  with  feathers  of  different 
colors,  arranged  with  such  skill  and  elegance,  as  to  rival  the 
works  of  the  pencil  in  truth  and  beauty  of  imitation.  But 
what  attracted  most  attention  were  two  large  plates  of  a cir- 
cular form.  One  was  of  massive  gold,  representing  the  sun; 
the  other  was  a silver  emblem  of  the  moon.*  In  short,  that 
nothing  might  be  wanting  which  could  give  the  Spaniards  a 
complete  idea  of  what  the  country  afforded,  some  boxes 
filled  with  pearls,  precious  stones,  and  grains  of  unwrought 
gold,  were  among  the  gifts.  Cortes  received  all  these  with 
expressions  of  gratitude  and  respect  for  the  powerful  mon 
arch  by  whom  they  were  bestowed. 

The  Mexicans,  presuming  upon  the  good  effect  of  their 
presents,  now  made  known  to  Cortes  the  wishes  of  their 
master.  Montezuma  requested  the  Spaniards  not  to  ap- 
proach near  his  capital ; but  to  return  to  their  own  country 
with  the  marks,  which  he  had  just  given,  of  his  friendship. 

The  Spanish  General  felt  much  annoyed  at  this  refusal. 
It  increased  his  resolute  purpose.  He  firmly  insisted  on  his 
first  demand,  stating  that  he  could  not  without  dishonor 
return  to  his  own  country  until  he  was  admitted  into  the 
presence  of  the  monarch  whom  he  was  appointed  to  visit  in 
the  name  of  his  Sovereign.  The  Mexicans  were  astonished 
at  seeing  any  man  dare  to  oppose  that  will  which  they  were 
accustomed  to  consider  as  supreme  and  irresistible.  Still, 
they  feared  to  hurry  the  nation  into  an  open  rupture  with 
such  formidable  enemies,  and  prevailed  upon  Cortes  to  prom- 
ise that  he  would  not  move  from  his  present  camp,  until 
the  return  of  a messenger  whom  they  sent  to  Montezuma 
for  further  instructions. 

The  critical  moment  had  now  arrived.  The  firmness  of 


* According  to  the  old  writers,  these  plates  were  “ as  large  as  carriage- wheels.”  The  one  rep- 
resenting the  sun  was  valued  at  20,000  pesos  de  oro,  or  $23.3,400.  A peso  de  oro  was  equal  to  $11.67. 
See  Prescott,  “History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico,”  Vol.  I.  p.  316,  note. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


255 


Cortes  seemed  to  leave  the  Mexican  ruler  no  choice.  He 
must  either  receive  the  Spaniard  with  confidence  as  a friend, 
or  oppose  him  openly  as  an  enemy.  The  answer  soon  came. 
It  was  the  same  as  before.  The  strangers  were  positively 
forbidden  to  advance  nearer  the  capital,  and  requested,  with- 
out delay,  to  return  to  their  owm  country.  Such  a final 
message  was  received  with  cold  courtesy  by  the  Spanish 
Commander.  “This  is,  indeed,  a rich  and  pow'erful  Prince,” 
he  exclaimed  to  his  officers.  “Yet  it  shall  go  hard  if  we  do 
not  one  day  pay  him  a visit  in  his  capital  !”* 


' During  this  intemew  between  Cortes  and  the  deputies  of  Montezuma,  the  bell  struck  for 
Vespers.  At  the  sound  the  soldiers,  thro^ving  themselves  on  their  knees,  offered  up  their  orisons 
before  the  large  wooden  Cross  planted  In  the  sands.  As  the  Aztec  chiefs  gazed  \vith  curious  sur- 
prise. Cortes  thought  it  a favorable  occasion  to  impress  them  with  what  he  conceiv^'d  to  be  a 
principal  object  of  his  \isit  to  the  country.  Father  Olmedo  accordingly  expounded,  as  briefly 
and  clearly  as  he  could,  the  great  doctrines  of  Christianity,  touching  on  the  Atonement,  the 
Passion,  and  the  Resurrection,  and  concluding  with  assuring  his  astonished  audience  that  it  was 
their  intention  to  extirpate  the  idolatrous  practices  of  the  nation,  and  to  substitute  the  pure  wop- 
ship  of  the  true  God.  He  then  put  into  their  hands  a little  image  of  the  Virgin  with  the  Infant 
Redeemer,  requesting  them  to  place  it  in  their  temples  instax'  of  their  sanguinary  deities. — 
JPruwU. 

f 


i 


CHAPTER  IV. 

GLANCES  AT  THE  MEXICAN  EMPIRE  AND  THE  SPANISH  CAMP. 

Extent  of  the  Mexican  Empire — A warlike  people — The 
powerful  and  haughty  Montezuma — His  timidity  in  a 
great  crisis— A strange  tradition — Hopes  and  fears  of 
the  Spaniards — Great  changes — The  little  town  of  the 
True  Cross — A strange  election — A rebellion  in  the 
camp — New  light  in  regard  to  the  Mexican  Empire — 
New  subjects  for  Spain — Destruction  of  the  fleet — The 
work  qf  conversion. 

Let  us  glance  at  the  Mexico  of  that  day  and  its  haughty 
monarch.  The  empire  was  at  the  highest  pitch  of  its  gran- 
deur. Its  rise  hfd  been  wonderfully  rapid.  Though  it  had 
subsisted — according  to  Mexican  traditions — only  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty  years,  its  territories  stretched  over  five 
hundred  leagues  from  east  to  west,  and  more  than  two 
hundred  from  north  to  south. 

The  people  were  warlike  and  enterprising.  The  revenue 
of  the  monarch  was  considerable,  and  his  authority  un- 
bounded. Of  aU  the  princes  who  had  swayed  the  Mexican 
scepter,  Montezuma  was  the  most  haughty,  violent,  and 
impatient  of  control.  His  subjects  looked  up  to  him  with 
awe,  and  his  enemies  with  terror.  He  governed  with  unex- 
ampled rigor,  but  his  ability  commanded  respect.  By  force 
of  arms  he  had  added  several  provinces  to  his  vast  domin- 
ions. But  the  crucial  test  of  his  capacity  was  now  at  hand; 
and  it  proved  that  his  talents  to  govern  an  unpolished 
nation  were  not  equal  to  the  task  of  coping  with  the  bold 
and  brilliant  genius  of  Cortes. 

From  the  moment  the  Spaniards  appeared  on  his  coasts, 
Montezuma  displayed  symptoms  of  timidity  and  embarrass- 
ment. His  deliberations  were  marked  b.y  anxiety  and  hesi- 
256 


HEBNANDO  COBTES. 


257 


tation.  This  state  of  mind  was  not  wholly  brought  about 
by  the  novel  appearance  of  the  strangers,  or  the  dread  of 
their  arms.  Its  origin  may  be  traced  to  a more  remote 
source. 

According  to  the  early  Spanish  historians,  there  was  a 
feeling,  a tradition — almost  universal  among  the  American 
Indians — that  some  dreadful  calamity  was  impending  over 
their  heads  from  a race  of  powerful  iuvaders,  who  would 
come  from  regions  towards  the  rising  sun,  to  overrun  and 
desolate  their  couutry.  How  this  opinion  originated  is  now 
unknown.  But  of  all  the  Indians,  the  Mexicans  were  the 
most  superstitious  ; and,  of  course,  the  more  deeply  affected 
by  the  appearance  of  the  Spaniards.  Instantly,  their  cre- 
dulity took  alarm.  The  white  strangers,  they  became  con- 
vinced, were  the  instruments  destined  to  bring  about  this 
long-dreaded  and  fatal  revolution. 

Let  us  enter  the  Spanish  camp.  It  was  not  without  its 
fears  and  dissensions.  While  many  were  eager  for  conquest, 
there  were  others,  who,  estimating  the  power  of  the  Mexican 
empire  by  its  wealth,  and  enumerating  the  various  proofs 
which  had  occurred  of  its  being  under  a well-regulated  ad- 
ministration, contended  that  it  would  be  an  act  of  the  wild- 
est phrensy  to  attack  such  a state  with  a small  body  of  men, 
in  want  of  provisions,  unsupported  by  a single  ally,  and  al- 
ready enfeebled  by  disease,  and  the  loss  of  several  of  their 
number.  Cortes  secretly  applauded  the  advocates  for  bold 
measures.  Their  romantic  hopes  harmonized  with  his  own 
vast  schemes. 

From  the  time  that  the  suspicions  of  Velasquez  broke  out 
with  open  violence  in  the  attempts  to  deprive  him  of  the 
command,  Cortes  saw  the  necessity  of  dissolving  a connec- 
tion which  would  obstruct  and  embarrass  all  his  operations. 
He  felt  that  the  moment  of  final  rupture  would  arrive, 
sooner  or  later.  Keeping  this  in  view,  he  had  labored  by 
every  art  to  secure  the  esteem  and  affection  of  his  soldiers. 
^ or  did  he  fail.  The  troops  had  the  most  perfect  confidence 
in  the  ability  and  courage  of  their  chief. 

>1  ew  difficulties,  however,  produced  dissension.  After  the 


258 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


final  answer  of  Montezuma  to  Cortes,  tlie  Indians  ceased  to 
hold  further  communication  with  the  Spaniards.  Dusky 
traders  no  longer  visited  the  camp  with  provisions.  All 
friendly  correspondence  seemed  at  an  end. 

This  unforeseen  event  produced  a sudden  consternation 
among  the  soldiers.  The  adherents  of  Velasquez  suddenly 
became  bold.  They  not  only  murmured  and  plotted  against 
their  General,  but  even  appointed  one  of  their  number  to 
rem(  n Urate  openly  against  the  rashness  of  attempting  the 
conquest  of  a mighty  empire  with  such  an  inadequate  force. 
The  necessity  of  returning  to  Cuba  to  refit  the  fleet  and  in- 
crease the  army  was  strongly  urged.  James  de  Ordaz,  one 
of  the  principal  ofiicers,  in  the  name  of  the  malcontents, 
delivered  this  remonstrance.  He  did  it  with  soldierly  free- 
dom and  bluntness,  assuring  Cortes  that  he  spoke  the  sen- 
timents of  the  whole  force. 

The  General  listened  without  any  apparent  emotion. 
Well  he  knew  the  temper  of  his  soldiers.  He  felt  sure 
that  a proposition  fatal  at  once  to  all  their  splendid  hopes 
would  be  rejected  with  indignation.  But  he  dissimulated. 
He  even  went  so  far  as  seemingly  to  comply  with  the  request 
of  Ordaz,  and  issued  orders  that  the  army  should  be  in  readi- 
ness next  day  to  re-embark  for  Cuba. 

As  soon  as  this  was  known,  the  hardy  adventurers,  in 
their  disappointment,  exclaimed  and  threatened.  The  fer- 
ment became  general.  The  whole  camp  was  almost  in  open 
mutiny.  The  partisans  of  Cortes  were  loud  in  their  remon- 
strances, and  thronging  around  his  tent,  they  called  on  him 
to  countermand  his  recent  order. 

“We  came  here,”  exclaimed  the  soldiers,  “expecting  to 
form  a settlement,  if  the  state  of  the  country  authorized  it. 
Now  it  seems  you  have  no  warrant  from  the  Governor  to 
make  one.  But  there  are  interests,  higher  than  those  of 
Velasquez,  which  demand  it.”  It  was  unworthy  of  Castil- 
ian courage — they  continued— to  be  daunted  at  the  first 
aspect  of  danger,  and  infamous  to  fly  before  an  enemy  ap- 
peared. They  were  determined  not  to  relinquish  an  enter- 
prise which  had  hitherto  been  successful,  and  which  tended 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


259 


SO  visibly  tc  spread  the  knowledge  of  the  true  Faith,  and  to 
advance  the  glory  and  interest  of  their  country.  Happy 
under  the  command  of  Cortos,  they  would  follow  him  through 
every  danger ; but  if  he  chose  rather  to  return  to  Cuba,  and 
tamely  give  up  all  his  hopes  of  distinction  to  an  envious 
rival,  they  would  instantly  choose  another  commander  to 
lead  them  to  that  path  of  glory  which  he  had  not  the  spirit 
tc  enter. 

Cortes  took  no  oflense  ac  ihis  bold  language.  The  senti- 
ments were  his  own.  He  was  secretly  delighted  at  such 
warmth  of  expression.  Still  he  feigned  to  be  rather  sur- 
prised at  what  he  heard,  declaring  that  his  orders  to  prepare 
foi  embarking  were  issued  from  a persuasion  that  it  was 
agreeable  to  his  troops;  that,  from  deference  to  what  he  had 
been  informed  was  their  inclination,  he  had  sacrificed  his 
own  private  opinion,  which  was  firmly  bent  on  establishing 
immediately  a settlement  on  the  sea-coast,  and  then  on  en- 
deavoring to  penetmte.into  the  interior  part  of  the  country. 
He  w'as  now,  he  said,  convinced  of  his  error,  and  as  he  per- 
ceived that  his  soldiers  were  animated  with  the  generous 
spirit  which  breathed  in  every  true  Spaniard,  he  would  re- 
sume with  fresh  ardor  his  original  plan  of  operation.  He 
doubted  not,  he  concluded,  to  lead  them  in  the  career  of 
victory  to  such  independent  fortunes  as  their  valor  merited. 

Shouts  of  applause  greeted  this  declaration.  The  measure 
feemed  to  be  taken  with  unanimous  consent.  Such  as  se- 
cretly condemned  it  were  obliged  to  join  in  the  acclamations, 
partly  to  conceal  their  dissatisfaction  from  their  General,  and 
partly  to  avoid  the  imputation  of  cowardice  from  their  fel- 
low-soldiers. 

Before  the  ardor  of  his  men  cooled,  Cortes  set  about  car- 
rying his  designs  into  execution.  He  wished  to  found  a col- 
ony. For  this  purpose,  he  assembled  the  chief  persons  in 
his  little  army,  and  by  their  suffrage  elected  a council  and 
magistrates,  in  whom  the  government  was  to  be  vested.  It 
was  framed  upon  the  model  of  a Spanish  corporation.  The 
magistrates  were  distinguished  by  the  same  titles  and  en- 
signs of  office,  and  were  to  exercise  a similar  jurisdiction. 


HERNANDO  CORTM 


2(3U 

All  those  chosen  were  firmly  devoted  to  Cortes.  The  instru- 
ment of  their  election  was  drawn  up  in  the  King’s  name, 
and  no  reference  was  made  to  Velasquez.  The  infant  city 
was  called  Villa  Rica  de  Vera  Cruz,  or  The  Rich  Town 
of  the  True  Cross.’” 

The  new  council  was  not  slow  in  coming  together.  It  was 
no  sooner  assembled  than  Cortes  asked  leave  to  enter.  He 
approached  that  august  body  with  marks  of  profound  re- 
spect, and  laying  his  commission  from  Velasquez  on  the 
table,  he  tendered  the  resignation  of  his  oflBce  of  Captain- 
General,  “which,  indeed,”  he  said,  “had  necessarily  ex- 
pired, since  the  authority  of  the  Governer  was  now  super- 
seded by  that  of  the  magistracy  of  Villa  Rica  de  Vera 
Cruz.”  He  kissed  his  truncheon,  delivered  it  to  the  chief 
magistrate,  and  then  left  the  apartment. 

The  deliberations  of  the  council  were  not  very  long. 
Cortes’  resignation  was  accepted,  but  as  the  uninterrupted 
tenor  of  their  prosperity  under  his  leadership  afforded  the 
most  satisfying  evidence  of  his  abilities  for  command,  he  was 
unanimously  elected  Chief- Justice  of  the  colony,  and  Cap- 
tain-General of  its  army.  His  new  commission  was  made 
out  in  the  King’s  name,  with  most  ample  powers,  which 
w'ere  to  continue  in  force  until  the  royal  pleasure  should  be 
further  known.  That  this  action  might  not  be  deemed  the 
work  of  a few,  the  council  called  the  troops  together,  and 
informed  them  as  to  what  had  taken  place.  The  soldiers 
ratified  the  choice.  The  air  resounded  with  the  name  of 
Cortes,  and  all  vowed  to  shed  the  last  drop  of  their  blood  in 
support  of  his  authority. 

Thus  clothed  with  supreme  civil  and  military  jurisdiction, 
our  hero  was  not  backward  in  asserting  his  authority.  And 
he  found  speedy  occasion  for  it.  The  adherents  of  Velasquez 
suddenly  awoke  to  the  new  condition  of  things.  Of  Cortes 
and  his  actions,  they  no  longer  continued  silent  spectators. 
They  exclaimed  openly  against  the  proceedings  of  both  the 
council  and  the  army.  The  General  at  once  perceived  the 


• Accoiding  to  Bernal  Diaz,  the  title  of  Vera  Cruz  (“  True  Cross”)  was  intended  to  commemo 
rate  their  landing  on  Good  Frid&j.—Preecott. 


HERNANDO  CORTEZ. 


261 


necessity  of  prompt  and  vigorous  measures.  He  arrested 
the  ringleaders,  and  quiet  was  again  restored. 

Cortes,  however,  was  more  desirous  to  reclaim  than  to 
punish  his  prisoners,  who  were  officers  of  great  merit,  and 
with  such  assiduity  and  address  did  he  win  back  their  friend- 
ship, that  the  reconciliation  was  perfectly  cordial.  Ever 
afterwards  these  cavaliers  remained  inviolably  attached  to 
his  interest.  He  was  now  completely  master  of  the  sit- 
uation. 

The  Commander  thought  he  might  venture  to  quit  the 
camp  in  which  he  had  hitherto  remained,  and  advance  into 
the  country.  To  this  he  was  encouraged  by  an  event  no  less 
fortunate  than  seasonable.  Some  Indians,  having  approached 
his  camp  in  a mysterious  manner,  were  introduced  into  his 
presence.  He  found  that  they  were  sent  with  a proffer  of 
friendship  from  the  cacique  of  Cempoalla,  a considerable 
town  at  no  great  distance ; and  from  their  answers  to  a variety 
of  questions  which  he  put  to  them — according  to  his  usual 
practice  in  every  interview  with  the  Indians — he  learned 
that  their  master,  though  subject  to  the  Mexican  empire, 
was  impatient  of  the  yoke,  and  filled  with  such  dread  and 
hatred  of  Montezuma,  that  nothing  could  be  more  acceptable 
to  him  than  any  prospect  of  deliverance  from  the  oppression 
under  which  he  groaned. 

On  hearing  this,  a ray  of  light  and  hope  broke  in  upon  the 
mind  of  Cortes.  He  saw  that  the  great  empire  which  he  un- 
dertook to  attack  was  neither  perfectly  united,  nor  its  sov- 
ereign universally  beloved.  The  causes  of  disaffection,  he 
concluded,  could  not  be  confined  to  one  province.  Other 
corners,  doubtless,  had  their  malcontents,  weary  of  subjec- 
tion, desirous  of  change,  and  ready  to  follow  the  standard 
of  any  protector.  Nor  was  he  mistaken. 

But  we  must  hasten  on  the  road  of  our  narrative,  nor  stop 
to  view  the  smaller  events.  Cortes  paid  a visit  to  the  chief 
of  Cempoalla,  and  was  received  as  the  commander  of  an 
army  of  superior  beings.  Of  Montezuma,  the  Ceneral  learned 
many  further  particulars.  He  was,  the  chief  stated,  a tyrant. 
He  ruined  the  conquered  provinces  by  excessive  exactions. 


262 


HERNANDO  GORlSS. 


He  was  cruel,  and  often  tore  their  sons  and  daughters  from 
them  by  violence  to  be  sacrificed  to  his  deities. 

There  were  other  provinces  of  the  empire,  the  cacique 
added,  where  the  haughty  monarch’s  rule  was  equally  odi- 
ous. Between  him  and  the  capital  lay  the  warlike  republic 
Tlascala,  which  had  always  maintained  its  independence  of 
Mexico.  The  fame  of  the  Spaniards  had  gone  before  them, 
and  he  was  well  acquainted  with  their  terrible  victory  at 
Tabasco.  But  still  he  looked  with  doubt  and  alarm  to  a 
rupture  with  “the  great  Montezuma” — as  he  always  styled 
him — whose  armies,  on  the  least  provocation,  would  pour 
down  from  the  mountain  regions  of  the  West,  and,  rushing 
over  the  plains  like  a whirlwind,  sweep  off  the  wretched 
people  to  slavery  and  sacrifice.  Cortes,  in  reply,  said  that 
one  of  the  objects  of  his  visit  was  to  redress  grievances  and 
relieve  the  distressed.  A single  Spaniard,  he  declared,  was 
stronger  than  a host  of  Mexicans.' 

In  a short  time  several  chiefs — among  whom  was  the  ruler 
of  Cempoalla — joined  the  Spanish  standard.  They  willingly 
subjected  themselves  to  the  crown  of  Castile,  and  offered 
to  accompany  Cortes  with  all  their  forces  on  his  march  to- 
wards Mexico. 

The  keen  eye  of  the  Gleneral,  at  this  point,  perceived  that 
the  spirit  of  disaffection  still  lurked  among  his  troops. 
Many  events  might  occur  to  call  it  forth.  It  was  not  hard 
to  see  that  a number  of  the  men  had  grown  weary  of  the 
fatigues  of  the  service,  and  longed  to  revisit  their  settle- 
ments in  Cuba.  But  any  diminution  of  his  force  would  be 
fatal  to  the  success  of  his  schemes.  After  much  thought 
he  came  to  the  bold  conclusion  of  cutting  off  all  possi- 
bility of  retreat.  In  short,  he  decided  to  destroy  his  fieet. 
It  was  a trying  and  dangerous  expedient.  All  movable 
articles  were  brought  on  shore,  and  then  the  ships  were 
sunk.  There  remained  but  one  small  vessel  floating  on  the 
waves ! 

By  the  greater  part  of  the  soldiers  the  news  of  this  event 
was  received  with  loud  murmurs.  “The  General,”  they 


• PreBcoU. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


263 


said,  “had  led  them  like  cattle  to  be  butchered  in  the 
shambles!”  Cortes  was  in  great  danger,  but  his  presence 
of  mind  was  admirable.  He  called  his  men  together.  The 
ships,  he  pointed  out,  had  suffered  so  much  by  having  been 
so  long  at  sea,  that  before  being  sunk  they  were  altogether 
untit  for  service.  The  army  had  just  been  increased  by  one 
hundred  sailors,  no  longer  employed  in  taking  care  of  the 
worm-eaten  hulks.  In  their  present  expedition  the  fleet 
could  be  of  no  assistance.  Their  hands  were  to  work,  and 
they  must  cast  no  glances  behind.  The  idea  of  retreat 
should  not  even  enter  their  thoughts.  Success  was  certain. 

“As  for  me,”  concluded  this  Spanish  Hannibal,  “I  have 
chosen  my  part.  I will  remain  here  while  there  is  one  to 
bear  me  company.  If  there  be  any  so  craven  as  to  shrink 
from  sharing  the  dangers  of  our  glorious  enterprise,  let  them 
go  home,  in  God’s  name.  There  is  still  one  vessel  left.  Let 
them  take  that  and  return  to  Cuba.  They  can  tell  how 
they  deserted  their  commander  and  their  comrades,  and 
patiently  wait  till  we  return  loaded  with  the  spoils  of  the 
Mexicans.” 

This  pithy  address  had  the  desired  effect.  It  restored 
confidence  in  the  Commander.  It  rekindled  enthusiasm. 
The  air  rang  with  shouts  of  “To  Mexico!  to  Mexico!” 
And  thus  Cortes,  with  unrivaled  address,  gained  his  point. 
It  was  a great  victory  over  his  own  troops ; and  was,  per- 
haps, the  most  extraordinary  passage  in  the  life  of  this 
heroic  man.  It  is,  in  truth,  one  of  the  most  daring  acts  in 
all  history.  Here  was  a handful  of  Spaniards  shut  up  in  a 
hostile  empire,  filled  with  powerful  and  unknown  nations. 
Having  destroyed  every  means  of  escape,  they  had  now  no 
resources  save  their  own  dauntless  valor  and  perseverance ! 

Nothing  now  retarded  Cortes.  Both  the  troops  and  the 
Indian  allies  were  in  excellent  spirits.  Before  departing, 
however,  he  made  an  almost  over-zealous  effort  for  the  con- 
version of  the  cacique  of  Cempoalla  and  his  people.  The 
preaching  of  Father  Olmedo  and  the  persuasive  words  of 
the  Spanish  General  had  equally  failed  in  changing  the  dark 
belief  of  that  dusky  ruler.  One  more  attempt  was  to  be 


264 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


made.  The  hideous  superstitions  of  the  Mexicans  were 
sickening  in  the  extreme.  In  their  cruel  sacrifices  they 
offered  up  human  victims,  and  their  cannibal  repasts  baffle 
description. 

Cortes  with,  perhaps,  more  zeal  than  prudence,  resolved 
in  an  instant  to  destroy  the  idols.  Heaven  would  never 
smile  on  their  enterprise,  he  said,  if  they  countenanced  such 
devil-worship.  The  work  was  to  be  done  at  once.  The 
command  was  given  to  move  on  one  of  the  temples.  Great 
was  the  alarm  of  the  Indians.  Priests  and  warriors  gathered 
together,  and  the  clashing  of  weapons  was  heard  in  every 
direction.  But  the  Spanish  General  was  prompt  in  his  move- 
ments. He  had  the  ringleaders  seized,  and  in  a moment 
struck  awe  into  the  barbarous  multitude. 

At  a signal  from  the  Commander-in-chief,  fifty  soldiers 
sprang  up  the  great  stairway  of  the  temple,  entered  the 
building  on  the  summit,  the  walls  of  which  were  black  with 
human  gore,  tore  the  huge  wooden  idols  from  their  founda- 
tions, and  dragged  them  to  the  edge  of  the  terrace.  Their 
fantastic  forms  and  features  seemed,  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Spaniards,  like  the  hideous  lineaments  of  Satan.  The  colos- 
sal monsters  were  rolled  down  the  steps  of  the  pyramid.  The 
troops  shouted  in  triumph,  but  the  natives  groaned  and  la- 
mented.’ A good  fire  rapidly  transformed  the  wooden  gods 
into  smoke  and  charcoal ; and,  for  the  first  time,  Indian 
belief  was  shaken  to  its  very  foundations. 

After  renovating  the  temple,  an  altar  was  erected,  and 
neatly  decorated  with  garlands  of  flowers.  A procession 
was  formed.  Holy  Mass  was  celebrated  with  impressive 
ceremonies  by  Father  Olmedo  ; and,  in  the  words  of  Prescott, 
“the  passionate  eloquence  of  the  good  priest  touched  the 
feelings  of  the  motley  audience,  until  Indians  as  well  as 
Spaniards  were  melted  into  sobs  and  tears.”  Thus  the  ce- 
lestial light  of  the  true  Faith  shone  in  its  calm  and  beautiful 
brilliancy  on  the  savage  land  of  Mexico ; and  the  Religion 
founded  by  the  God  of  Nature  triumphed  over  the  hardened 
nature  and  pagan  prejudices  of  cruel  barbarians. 


’ Prescott. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  MEMORABLE  MARCH  TO  MEXICO. 

The  little  army  moms — Traveling  on  a rough  road — Ad- 
ventures on  the  confines  of  Tlascala — A battle — Another 
battle,  in  which  there  was  no  alternative  but  death  or 
victory  — Peace — Tlascala  becomes  subject  to  Spain — 
At  Cholula,  and  what  happened  there — The  first  sight 
of  the  city  of  Mexico  — Grand  reception  of  the  Span- 
iards by  Montezuma. 

It  was  the  16th  of  August,  1519.  The  hour  to  begin  the 
inarch  came.  Cortes  addressed  the  soldiers  “in  phrases  of 
honeyed  eloquence  far  beyond  what  I can  repeat,”  writes 
the  brave  and  honest  Bernal  Diaz.  Our  Blessed  Saviouj-, 
said  the  General,  will  give  us  victory  in  all  our  battles  with 
the  enemy.  This  assurance  must  be  our  stay.  Ev’ery  other 
refuge  is  now  cut  off  but  that  afforded  by  the  Providence 
of  God  and  your  owm  stout  hearts. 

“We  are  ready  to  obey  you,”  cried  the  troops,  with  one 
voice.  “Our  fortunes  are  cast  with  yours  for  better  or 
worse.”  And  thus  with  courageous  hearts,  and  high  hopes 
lighting  up  the  way,  the  little  army  set  forward  on  the 
march  to  Mexico. 

It  consisted  of  five  hundred  men,  fifteen  horse,  and  six 
field  pieces.  Cortes  left  the  rest  of  his  troops — consisting 
chiefly  of  such  as  from  age  or  infirmity  were  less  fit  for  ac- 
tive service — as  a garrison  in  Villa  Rica,  under  the  command 
of  an  officer  of  merit.  The  cacique  of  Cempoalla  supplied 
him  with  provisions,  a body  of  four  hundred  troops,  and  two 
hundred  Indian  porters.  The  last  were  to  carry  the  bag- 
gage, drag  the  artillery  along,  and  perform  all  servile  labor. 
They  were  a great  relief  to  the  Spanish  soldiers. 


266 


266 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


The  line  of  march  conducted  the  hardy  veterans  up  the 
declivities  which  led  to  the  table- land  of  Mexico.  It  was 
the  rainy  season,  and  proved  trying  up- hill  work.  As  they 
rose  higher  and  higher,  sleet  and  hail  often  drenched  them 
to  the  very  bones.  The  toilsome  way  frequently  bordered 
on  precipices,  where  the  shrinking  eye  beheld  towering 
heights  above  and  wild  ravines  and  beautiful  valleys  below. 
But  in  the  midst  of  those  changes  of  scene  one  thing  was 
never  forgotten.  Father  Olmedo  preached  the  sublime 
truths  of  the  Gospel  in  the  various  native  villages  and  set- 
tlements through  which  they  passed.  Crosses  were  greeted 
as  memorials  of  the  visit,  and  to  show  that  Holy  Faith  had 
extended  its  outposts  even  to  the  hills  and  mountains  of 
Mexico.  “The  route  of  the  army,”  writes  the  Protestant 
Prescott,  “might  be  tracked  by  these  emblems  of  man's 
salvation.” 

Nothing  remarkable  happened  in  the  progress  of  Cortes, 
until  he  arrived  on  the  confines  of  Tlascala  ’ — a proud  little 
republic.  The  inhabitants  were  of  a w^arlike  disposition,  and 
implacable  enemies  of  the  Mexicans.  The  General  sent  four 
Cempoallans  of  great  eminence  to  request  in  his  own  name 
and  in  that  of  their  cacique,  that  the  Tlascalans  would  per- 
mit the  Spaniards  to  pass  through  the  territories  of  the  re- 
public, on  their  way  to  Mexico.  But  this  fierce  and 
independent  people  seized  the  embassadors,  and  without 
any  regard  to  their  public  character,  made  preparations  for 
sacrificing  them  to  their  gods. 

Cortes,  after  waiting  in  vain  for  the  return  of  his  embas- 
sadors, advanced  into  the  republic.  He  found  native  troops 
in  the  field  ready  to  oppose  him.  They  rushed  on  his  little 
army  with  great  intrepidity,  and  in  the  first  encounter 
wounded  some  of  the  Spaniards,  and  killed  two  horses. 
This  was  a serious  loss,  because  it  was  irreparable. 

From  this  specimen  of  Tlascalan  courage,  Cortes  saw  the 
necessity  of  proceeding  with  extreme  caution.  His  army 
marched  in  close  order.  He  paid  every  attention  to  the  sta 


’ The  fruitfulness  of  the  soil  was  indicated  by  the  name  of  the  country — Tlascala  signifyinj 
the  ••  land  of  bread.” — Pi'tscoU. 


HERNANDO  C0RT£S. 


267 


tions  where  he  halted,  and  fortified  the  camps  with  extra- 
ordinary care.  During  fourteen  days  he  was  exposed  to 
almost  ceaseless  assaults.  The  last  engagements  were  the 
most  fierce  and  memorable. 

According  to  Cortes,  one  hundred  thousand  Tlascalans 
were  in  battle  array,  stretched  over  a vast  plain  as  far  as  the 
ove  could  reach.  When  he  came  within  hearing,  he  ordered 
his  interpreters  to  proclaim  that  he  had  no  hostile  intentions. 
All  he  wanted  was  a passage  through  their  country.  He 
entered  as  a friend.  If  blood  were  shed,  he  declared  that 
others  would  be  responsible  for  the  crime.  A shower  of 
stones  and  arrows  was  the  stern  and  only  reply.  Blood 
was  drawn.  The  Spaniards  could  stand  it  no  longer;  and 
Cortes,  with  the  battle-cry  of  “St.  Jago  and  at  them,” 
on  his  lips,  rushed  to  the  front  of  danger  at  the  head  of 
his  handful  of  cavalry.  He  "ftfished  to  open  a passage  for 
the  infantry. 

The  struggle  soon  grew  fierce  and  desperate  as  the  barba- 
rian thousands  closed  on  the  solid  battalion  of  Castilians. 
But  they  ceased  not  to  present  an  unbroken  front.  The 
voice  of  Cortes  was  heard  amid  the  din  of  battle,  cheering 
on  his  soldiers.  “If  we  fail  now,”  he  cried,  “the  Cross  of 
Christ  can  never  be  planted  in  the  land.  Forward,  com- 
mdes.  When  was  it  ever  known  that  a Castilian  turned  his 
back  on  the  foe?”  Animated  by  the  words  and  heroic  bear- 
ing of  their  General,  the  soldiers,  with  desperate  efforts,  at 
length  succeeded  in  forcing  a passage  through  the  dark  col- 
umns of  the  enemy,  and  emerged  from  the  defile  on  the  open 
plain  beyond.' 

With  a free  space  to  handle  the  guns,  the  artillery  now 
thundered  on  the  Indian  ranks.  The  belching  of  smoke, 
the  roaring  of  cannon,  and  the  work  of  death  proceeded  to- 
gether, and  filled  the  barbarians  with  consternation.  A re- 
treat was  sounded,  and  they  drew  off  in  good  order,  leaving 
the  brave  but  exhausted  Spaniards  in  possession  of  the 
hard-earned  field.  The  most  dreadful  confiict,  however,  wa« 
yet  to  come. 


• Prescott. 


268 


EBRNANDO  CORTSS. 


After  a day  of  repose,  the  Spanish  General  sent  two  en- 
voys to  the  Tlascalan  commander-in-chief,  bearing  offers  of 
peace,  and  stating  that  it  was  his  intention  to  make  a 
friendly  visit  to  the  capital  of  the  republic. 

The  answer  soon  arrived.  It  was  not  even  flavored  with 
savage  courtesy.  “The  Spaniards,”  said  the  fierce  Indian 
leader,  “might  pass  on  as  soon  as  they  chose  to  Tlascala  ; 
and,  when  they  reached  it  their  flesh  would  be  hewn  from 
their  bodies,  for  sacrifice  to  the  gods.  If  they  preferj-ed  to 
remain  in  their  own  quarters,  he  would  pay  them  a visit 
there  the  next  day  !”  This  was  the  stern  language  of  a 
chief  who  had  50,000  warriors  in  the  field,  ready  to  obey  his 
slightest  nod. 

The  aspect  of  affairs  was  now  rather  gloomy.  The  crippled 
Spaniards  might  well  dread  a fresh  encounter  with  such  an 
intrepid  and  overwhelming  foe.  But  there  could  be  no  re- 
treat. Fight  they  must.  “We  feared  death,”  says  the 
bold  and  simple  Diaz,  ‘ ‘ for  we  were  men.  That  night  the 
venerable  Father  Olmedo  scarcely  closed  an  eye.  One  by 
one,  the  men  knelt  at  his  knee,  and  with  contrite  hearts  re- 
peated the  oft-told  tale  of  human  weakness,  and  rolled  away 
the  burden  of  sin.  0 blessed  beauty  of  Faith,  whose  celes- 
tial brightness  is  never  so  grandly  conspicuous  as  when  the 
shadow  of  death  or  misfortune  is  near ! Strengthened  by  the 
Sacraments,  and  with  a good  conscience  as  a companion,  the 
Catholic  soldier  can  calmly  await  the  shock  of  battle,  and 
rush  to  the  front  like  a hero. 

The  Spanish  General  resolved  to  meet  his  powerful  enemy 
more  than  half  way.  It  was  the  morning  of  the  5th  of  Sep- 
tember, 1519,  and  the  sun  arose  bright  and  glorious.  His- 
torians tell  us  that  the  Tlascalan  army  covered  about  “six 
miles  square”  of  a plain.  As  the  Spaniards  advanced  in 
sight,  the  barbarians  raised  a yell  of  defiance.  Cortes 
ordered  his  troops  to  open  fire  along  the  whole  line.  Every 
shot  told.  Desperation  soon  took  the  place  of  dismay,  and 
the  dusky  horde  with  savage  shouts  swept  down  on  the  Cas- 
tilian cavaliers,  like  one  vast  avalanche.  The  little  army 


* Cortes  places  the  number  of  the  enemy  at  150,000  men. 


HERNANDO  C0RT£S. 


269 


was  borne  away  on  the  wild,  raging  torrent,  The  din  of 
battle  drowned  the  voice  of  Cortes.  All  seemed  lost. 

But  despair  nerved  each  skilled  and  brawny  arm.  The 
sharp  Toledo  blades  were  gradually  making  havoc  on  the 
gaudily  painted  bodies  of  the  naked  Tlascalans.  Each 
Spaniard,  for  the  time,  felt  that  he  was  a hero,  fighting  for 
all  that  is  dearest  in  this  world.  The  bold  charges  of  Cortes 
at  the  head  of  the  horse,  and  the  thunder  of  the  cannon  in 
the  rear,  finally  threw  the  angry  and  countless  masses  into 
disorder.  It  was  like  the  Greeks  and  Per  :ians  of  old.  Before 
the  sun  went  down,  victory  shed  its  gold  sn  rays  on  the  Span- 
ish standard. 

Peace  was  shortly  after  concluded.  The  Tlascalans  agreed 
to  become  subject  to  the  Crown  of  Castile,  and  engaged  to 
assist  Cortes  in  all  his  future  operations.  The  General,  on 
his  part,  took  the  republic  under  his  protection,  and  prom- 
ised to  defend  its  people  from  injury  or  violence. 

Cortes  after  a repose  of  twenty  days, continued  his  march 
towards  the  city  of  Mexico,  accompanied  by  6, 000  Tlascalans. 
They  directed  their  course  towards  Cholula.  This  was  a con- 
siderable town,  and  though  only  five  leagues  distant  from  Tlas- 
cala,  it  was  formerly  an  independent  state,  but  had  been  lately 
subjected  to  the  Mexican  empire.  It  was  regarded  by  all 
the  people  of  Mexico  as  a holy  place — the  sanctuary  of  their 
gods.  Here  pilgrims  flocked  from  every  province,  and  a 
greater  number  of  human  victims  were  offered  in  the  princi- 
pal temple  of  Cholula  than  even  in  that  of  Mexico. 

The  Tlascalans  warned  Cortes  to  keep  a watchful  eye  over 
the  Cholulans.  On  entering  the  town,  he  was  received  with 
much  seeming  respect,  but  did  not  fail  to  notice  several  cir- 
cumstances which  aroused  his  suspicion.  In  a few  days  he 
was  secretly  informed  that  six  children  had  been  sacrificed 
in  the  chief  temple — a brutal  ceremony  which  indicated  that 
some  warlike  project  was  on  foot.  The  whole  plot  soon 
came  to  his  ears.  It  was  resolved  to  destroy  the  Span- 
iards. A body  of  Mexican  troops  lay  concealed  near  the 
town.  Some  of  the  streets  were  barricaded.  In  others  pits 
and  trenches  were  dug,  and  slightly  covered  over,  as  traps 


270 


HERNANDO  CORTJES. 


into  wliicli  the  horses  might  fall.  Stones  were  collected  on 
the  tops  of  the  temples  to  hurl  down  on  the  soldiers.  In 
short,  the  fatal  hour  was  at  hand,  and  ruin  unavoidable. 

At  this  news  Cortes  was  alarmed.  He  secretly  arrested 
three  of  the  chief  priests,  and  extorted  from  them  a confes- 
sion, which  convinced  him  that  he  had  only  heard  the  truth. 
Not  a moment  was  noyv  to  be  lost.  He  resolved  to  head  off 
his  treacherous  enemies,  and  to  inflict  on  them,  once  for  all, 
such  a swift  and  dreadful  chastisement  as  would  strike  ter- 
ror into  Montezuma  and  his  subjects. 

At  a given  signal  the  Spanish  soldiers  and  their  Indian 
allies  rushed  out,  and  fell  on  the  assembled  multitudes  of 
Cholula.  Death  and  destruction  filled  the  streets.  The 
temples  were  set  on  fire,  and  those  who  had  gathered  in 
them  perished  in  the  flames.  This  scene  of  horror  lasted  for 
two  days.  At  length,  the  carnage  ended,  after  the  slaughter 
of  6,000  Cholulans,  without  the  loss  of  a single  Spaniard. 

Cortes  then  released  the  chiefs  of  the  city,  and  reproached 
them  bitterly  for  their  intended  treachery.  He  forgave  the 
crime,  he  said,  as  justice  was  now  appeased;  and  required 
them  to  recall  the  citizens  who  had  fled,  and  to  re-establish 
order.  It  was  done  as  he  commanded,  and  the  Spaniards 
henceforth  were  looked  upon  as  a wonderful  race  of  supe- 
rior discernment. 

From  Cholula,  Cortes  advanced  directly  towards  Mexico, 
which  was  only  twenty  leagues  distant.  In  every  place 
through  which  he  passed,  he  was  received  as  a personage 
clothed  with  power  to  deliver  the  empire  from  the  oppression 
under  which  it  groaned.  The  various  caciques  or  governors 
communicated  to  him  all  the  grievances  which  they  felt  un- 
der the  tyrannical  rule  of  Montezuma.  This  they  did  with 
that  unreserved  confidence,  which  men  naturally  repose  in  a 
superior  being.  To  the  keen,  analytic  mind  of  Cortes  such 
information  was  most  suggestive 

The  picturesque  grandeur  of  the  country  charmed  the 
Europeans.  As  they  descended  the  mountains  of  Chalo,  the 
vast  plain  of  Mexico  opened  on  their  view.  It  was  one  of 
the  most  striking  and  beautiful  visions  on  the  face  of  the 


UERXANDO  CORTES. 


271 


earth.  Fertile  and  cultivated  fields  stretched  further  then 
the  eye  could  reach.  The  weary  wondering  traveler  saw  a 
lake  resembling  the  sea  in  extent,  surrounded  by  large 
towns,  and  discovered  the  capital  city  rising  upon  an  island 
in  the  middle,  adorned  with  its  temples  and  turrets.  In 
truth,  the  scene  so  far  exceeded  their  imagination,  that  some 
believed  the  fanciful  descriptions  of  romance  were  realized.’ 
Others  thought  this  wonderful  spectacle  must  be  a dream. 
As  they  advanced,  their  doubts  were  removed,  but  their 
amazement  increased. 

Hitherto  no  enemy  dared  to  oppose  their  progress;  but, 
day  after  day,  couriers  had  arrived  from  Montezuma.  One 
day  he  permitted  the  Spanish  forces  to  advance,  the  next  he 
ordered  them  to  retire.  His  instructions  were  variously 
shaped,  as  he  chanced  to  take  counsel  of  his  hopes,  or  his 
fears.  Nor  did  this  singular  infatuation  cease.  Cortes  was 
almost  at  the  gates  of  his  cajiital  before  the  Monarch  had 
finally  decided  to  receive  him  as  a friend,  or  oppose  him  as 
a foe.  But  no  sign  of  open  hostility  appeared,  and  the 
Spaniards  continued  their  march  along  the  causeway,  through 
the  lake  which  led  to  the  city  of  Mexico.  Prudence  and 
strict  discipline  marked  their  steps. 

When  Cortes  and  his  little  band  of  Castilians  drew  near 
the  city,  about  a thousand  persons  of  distinction,  adorned 
with  plumes  and  clad  in  mantles  of  fine  cotton,  came  forth 
to  meet  them.  They  saluted  the  General  with  great  respect, 
and  announced  the  approach  of  Montezuma. 

The  long  procession  that  preceded  the  emperor  soon  ap- 
peared. First  came  two  hundred  persons,  dressed  alike, 
with  large  plumes  of  feathers,  marching  two  and  two,  in 
deep  silence,  bare-footed,  and  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground. 
These  were  followed  by  a company  of  still  higher  rank, 
decked  in  their  most  showy  garments  ; and  in  the  midst  sat 


* “And  when  we  saw,”  exclaims  Bemal  Diaz,  “ so  many  cities  and  towns  rising  up  from  the 
water,  and  other  populous  places  situated  on  the  solid  earth,  and  that  causeway,  straight  as  a 
carpenter’s  level,  which  went  into  Mexico,  we  remained  astonished,  and  said  to  one  another  that 
it  appeared  like  the  enchanted  castles  which  they  tell  of  in  the  book  of  Amadis.  by  reason  of  the 
great  towers,  templef  and  edifices  which  there  were  in  the  water,  and  all  of  them  work  of  ma- 
sonry.  Some  even  of  Dur  soldiers  asked,  if  this  that  they  saw  was  not  a thing  in  a dream.” 


272 


HERNAITDO  CORTES. 


Montezuma  in  a chair  richly  ornamented  with  gold  and 
feathers  of  various  colors.  Four  of  his  chief  favorites  car- 
ried Jiim  on  their  shoulders-,  while  over  his  head  others  sup- 
ported a canopy  ot  curious  workmanship  Before  him 
marched  three  officers  with  rods  of  gold  in  their  hands, 
which  from  time  to  time  they  lifted  up  on  high,  and  at  that 
signal  all  the  people  bowed  their  heads,  and  hid  their  faces 
as  unworthy  to  look  on  so  mighty  a monarch.  Such  was 
the  pompous  state  and  external  splendor  of  the  showy  sav- 
age that  ruled  over  Mexico 

When  he  drew  near,  Cortes  dismounted,  and  advanced 
towards  him  on  foot  At  the  same  time  Montezuma  alighted 
from  his  chair,  and  leaning  on  the  arms  of  two  of  his  near 
relations,  approached  with  a slow  and  steady  pace,  his  at- 
tendants covering  the  way  with  cotton  cloths  that  he  might 
not  touch  the  ground  Cortes  saluted  him  with  profound 
respect,  after  the  European  fashion.  He  returned  the  salu 
tation  by  touching  the  earth  with  his  hand,  and  then  kissing 
it.  This  condescension  in  their  haughty  ruler  amazed  the 
Mexican  multitudes.  They  concluded  that  the  persons  be 
fore  whom  he  humbled  himself  in  this  manner  must  be  more 
than  human.  The  Spaniards  were  regarded  as  supernatural 
beings. 

Montezuma  conducted  Cortes  to  the  quarters  prepared  for 
his  reception,  and  at  once  took  leave  of  him  with  a polite- 
ness not  unworthy  of  a court  more  refined.  ‘ You  are 
now,”  said  the  Mexican  ruler,  “with  your  brothers  in  your 
own  house.  Refresh  yourself  after  your  fatigue,  and  be 
happy  until  I return.” 

The  place  allotted  to  the  Spaniards  for  their  lodgings  was 
a vast  palace  built  by  Montezuma’s  father.  It  was  sur- 
rounded by  a stone  wall,  with  towers  at  proper  distances, 
which  served  for  defense  as  well  as  for  omament;  and  its 
apartments  and  courts  were  so  large,  as  to  accommodate  both 
the  Spaniards  and  their  Indian  allies.  The  first  care  of 
Cortes  was  to  take  precautions  for  his  security,  by  planting 
the  artillery  so  as  to  command  the  different  avenues  which 
led  to  his  quarters.  He  also  appointed  a large  division  of 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


273 


Jiis  troops  to  be  always  on  guard,  and  posted  sentinels  at 
proper  stations, with  strict  orders  to  observe  the  same  vigi- 
lant discipline  as  if  they  were  within  sight  of  an  enemy’s 
camp. 

The  memorable  day  on  which  Cortes  and  his  companions 
entered  Mexico  was  the  8th  of  November,  1519.  Their  num- 
ber was  about  450.  In  a time  of  great  festivity,  they  would 
have  formed  but  a poor  and  mean  sacrifice  to  have  been 
offered  to  the  Mexican  gods.  The  population  of  that  most 
famous  city — then  the  greatest  in  America — was  estimated 
by  the  best  authorities  at  300,000  souls.’ 


* Mexico,  or  Temtchtitlan,  as  it  was  ancientiy  called  by  the  natives,  is  sitnated  in  a large  plain, 
environed  by  mountains  of  such  height,  that,  though  within  the  Torrid  Zone,  the  temperature  of 
4ts  climate  is  mild  and  healthful.  Ail  the  moisture  which  descends  from  the  high  grounds  is 
collected  in  several  lakes,  the  two  largest  of  which,  of  about  ninety  miles  in  circuit,  communicate 
with  each  other.  The  water  of  the  one  is  fresh,  that  of  the  other  brackish.  On  the  banks  of  the 
latter  and  on  some  small  islands  adjoining  to  them,  the  capital  of  Montezuma’s  empire  was 
built. 

The  city  of  Mexico  was  approached  by  three  principal  causeways  of  about  thirty  feet  in  breadth, 
■constructed  of  solid  masonry.  The  length  of  one  of  these  causeways  was  two  leagues,  and  that 
of  anothei  a league  and  a half;  and  these  two  ample  causeways  united  in  the  middle  of  the  city, 
where  stood  the  great  temple.  At  the  ends  of  these  causeways  were  wooden  draw-bridges,  so 
that  communication  could  be  cut  off  betw*een  the  causeways  and  the  city,  which  would  thus  be- 
come a citadel  There  was  also  an  aqueduct  which  communicated  with  the  mainland,  consisting 
of  two  separate  lines  of  work  in  masonry,  in  order  that  if  one  should  need  repair,  the  supply  of 
water  for  the  city  might  not  be  interrupted. 

The  streets  were  the  most  various  in  construction  that  have  ever  been  seen  in  any  city  in  the 
world  Some  were  of  dry  land,  others  wholly  of  water;  and  others,  again,  had  pathways  of  pave- 
ment while  in  the  center  there  was  room  for  boats.  The  foot-passengers  could  talk  with  those  in 
the  boats. 

The  abodes  of  the  Mexican  kings  were  not  like  the  petty  wigwams  of  the  other  North  American 
fndian  chiefs.  A most  observant  Spaniard,  who  first  saw  these  wonders,  speaks  of  a palace  of 
Montezuma's  in  which  there  was  a room  in  which  3,000  persons  could  be  well  accommodated,  and 
on  the  terrace-like  roof  of  which  a splendid  tournament  might  have  been  given.  The  market- 
place was  surrounded  with  porticos,  and  there  was  room  in  it  for  50,000  people  to  buy  and  sell. 
The  great  temple  of  the  city  was  of  vast  proportions.  Cortes  himself  states  that  the  space  allotted 
t*  it  was  twenty  times  as  large  as  the  market-place.  In  short,  Mexico  was  truly  a wonderful  city. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  CONQUEST  BRIEFLY  TOLD. 

Views  and  intermews—  Visit  to  the  Great  Temple— Cortes  in 
a dangerous  and  delicate  position— A hold  step,  and  how 
it  was  executed — Other  projects — Montezuma  becomes  a 
vassal  of  the  Spanish  Sovereigns— He  invites  Cortes  to 
return  home — A new  enemy,  and  how  Cortes  disposed  of 
him— Unwelcome  intelligence — The  revolt  against  the 
Spaniards— War  in  the  city  of  Mexico — Desperate 
fighting  and  fearful  scenes— Death  of  Montezuma — 
The  '‘'•sorrowful  nighV  and  retreat  of  the  Spaniards — 
On  the  road  to  Tlascala — A great  battle— Amongst 
friends  again — Cortes  resolves  to  take  Mexico — Glances 
at  the  historic.siege — Fall  of  the  great  Capital — Thanks- 
giving — A new  empire  for  Spain. 

In  the  evening,  Montezuma  returned  to  visit  his  guests. 
He  came  in  great  state,  and  brought  valuable  presents  to 
Cortes  and  his  men.  A long  conference  then  followed  with 
the  Spanish  General,  in  which  the  Mexican  Monarch  freely 
expressed  his  opinion  of  the  strangers.  Among  the  Mexi- 
cans it  was  an  established  tradition,  he  told  Cortes,  that 
their  ancestors  came  originally  from  a remote  region,  and  con- 
quered the  countries  now  subject  to  his  rule,  and  that  after 
they  were  settled  there,  the  great  captain  who  conducted 
this  colony  returned  to  his  own  country,  promising  that  at 
some  future  period  his  descendants  would  visit  them,  assume 
the  government,  and  reform  their  laws  and  constitution. 

From  what  he  had  seen  and  heard  of  the  Spaniards,  Mon- 
tezuma said  in  conclusion,  he  had  no  doubt  that  they  were  the 
very  persons  whose  appearance  the  Mexican  traditions  and 
prophecies  taught  him  to  expect;  and  hence  he  had  received 
274 


UERA'^AXDO  CORTES. 


275 


them,  not  as  strangers,  but  as  relations  of  the  same  blood  and 
parentage,  and  desired  that  they  might  consider  themselves 
as  masters  in  his  dominions,  for  both  himself  and  his  sub- 
jects would  be  ready  to  show  them  all  due  honor.  The 
reply  of  the  Spanish  Commander  was  eloquent,  cautious, 
and  dignified. 

- The  next  day  Cortes  paid  a visit  to  Montezuma.  This 
time  the  conversation  was  not  political.  It  was  religious. 
Our  hero  was  a man  of  deep  and  ardent  faith.  As  a true 
knight,  he  would  have  shed  the  last  drop  of  his  blood  for 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  Catholic  Church.  Indeed,  the 
pages  of  history  might  be  searched  in  vain  for  the  name  of 
any  conqueror  who  was  more  deeply  imbued  ’nuth  the  mis- 
sionary spirit  than  the  wise  and  fearless  Cortes. 

The  Commander-in-chief  was  not  unpractised  in  expound- 
ing the  truths  of  Faith.  He  related  to  Montezuma  the  won- 
derful story  of  Christianity,  stated  why  the  Spaniards  hon- 
ored the  Cross,  gave  expression  to  his  hatred  and  scorn  for 
the  vile  idols  of  Mexico,  and  informed  the  dusky  Emperor 
that  these  idols  had  given  way  before  the  Cross.*  He  then 

I Que  mirassen  qnan  malos  eon,  y de  poca  valia,  qne  adoade  tenemos  pnestae  Cruzes,  como  las 
que  vieron  sus  Embaxadores,  con  temor  dellas  no  osan  parecer  delante. — Bernal  Diaz,  “Historia 
Verdadera  de  la  Conquista  de  la  Xeuva-Espaiia." 

Bernal  Diaz,  the  brave  old  soldier-historian  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico,  was  a native  of  Spain, 
the  son  of  humble  parents,  and  in  early  years  came  to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  New  World.  He 
enlisted  under  the  banner  of  Cortes,  and  followed  his  victorious  chief  throughout  the  whole  war 
that  led  to  the  downfall  of  Montezuma  and  Indian  rale  in  the  Mexican  empire.  He  was  engaged 
in  one  hundred  and  nineteen  battles,  was  often  w ounded,  and  more  than  once  came  near  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  enraged  enemy.  His  valor  was  never  questioned,  and  his  manly  loyalty 
made  him  proof  against  the  mutinous  spirit  that  too  often  disturbed  the  harmony  of  the  camp. 
On  every  occasion  he  was  found  true  to  his  commander  and  to  the  cause  in  which  he  was  em- 
barked. On  the  settlement  of  thfc  country,  Diaz  received  a good  share  of  the  land  and  laborers. 
We  find  the  veteran  in  1568  established  as  regidor  of  the  city'  of  Guatemala,  peacefully  employed 
In  recounting  the  wonderful  achievements  of  his  youth.  It  was  then  about  half  a century  after 
the  Conquest.  Cortes  and  nearly  all  his  ancient  companions  in  arms  were  no  more.  Five  only 
remained  of  that  gallant  hand  that  had  accompanied  the  great  Commander  on  his  expedition  from 
Cuba;  and  those  five,  to  borrow  the  words  of  the  old  chronicler  himself,  were  “poor,  aged  and 
infirm,  with  children  and  grand-children  looking  to  them  for  support,  but  with  scarcely  the 
means  of  affording  it — ending  their  days  as  they  had  begun  them,  in  toil  and  trouble.”  Diaz’s 
BUlorta  Verdadera  de  la  Conquista  de  la  Keuva  Eepafia  (“  The  True  History  of  the  Conquest  of 
New  Spain")  is  the  simple  and  unvarnished  story  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico.  Prescott,  from 
whom  neariy  all  this  note  is  taken,  regards  Diaz  as  an  inimitable  scene-painter.  He  is  among 
chroniclers  what  De  Foe  is  among  novelists.  All  the  picturesque  scenes  and  romantic  incidents 
of  the  campaign  are  reflected  in  his  pages  as  in  a mirror.  The  lapse  of  fifty  years  had  no  power 
over  the  spirit  of  the  veteran.  The  fire  of  youth  glows  in  every  line  of  his  rude  history,  which 
lay  in  manuscript  for  more  than  half  a century  before  it  was  printed.  It  was  published  at  Madrid 
In  1632. 


276 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


spoke  of  the  Creation,  of  Adam  and  Eve,  and  the  universal 
brotherhood  of  man;  and  said  that  his  King,  in  the  true 
spirit  of  such  brotherhood,  grieving  over  the  loss  of  souls, 
had  sent  the  Spaniards  to  prevent  the  adoration  of  idols 
and  the  revolting  sacrifice  of  men  and  women.  The  min- 
isters of  the  good  and  all-powerful  God,  he  concluded, 
would  come  after  him  to  instruct  the  Mexicans  in  these 
holy  things. 

“I  have  had  a perfect  understanding,”  replied  Monte- 
zuma, “of  all  the  discourse  and, reasonings  which  you  have 
addressed  before  now  to  my  subjects  upon  the  subject  of 
your  God,  and  in  relation  to  the  Cross.  . . We  have  not  re- 
sponded to  any  of  these  things,  for  from  the  beginning  here 
we  have  adored  our  gods,  and  have  held  them  to  be  good 
gods;  and  so,  no  doubt,  are  yours.  But  do  not  take  the 
trouble,  at  present,  to  say  anything  more  about  them  to 
us.”  The  royal  pagan  then  concluded  with  a most  cour- 
teous reference  to  the  Spanish  Sovereign. 

Several  days  were  now  employed  in  viewing  the  city.  Its 
appearance  filled  the  Spaniards  with  surprise  and  admira- 
tion. There  could  be  seen  the  vast  market-place,  with  its 
thousands  of  buyers  and  sellers.  Cortes  visited  the  great 
temple  of  the  Mexican  god  of  war,  at  the  entrance  of  which 
he  was  received  by  Montezuma  and  his  priests  and  nobles. 
The  party  ascended  to  the  pinnacle,  and  the  view  was 
beautiful. 

While  enjoying  the  grandeur  of  the  scene,  Cortes  turned 
to  his  venerable  companion,  Father  de  Olmedo,  and  said : “It 
appears  to  me.  Reverend  Father,  that  we  might  just  make 
a trial  of  Montezuma,  and  see  if  he  would  let  us  set  up  our 
church  here.”'  The  wiser  Franciscan  replied  that  ib  would 
be  very  well  to  make  the  request  if  there  were  any  hope  of 
its  being  granted.  Just  then  did  not  seem  to  be  an  oppor- 
tune moment,  and  the  Mexican  ruler  would  most  likely 
give  a decided  refusal.  The  Spanish  General  abandoned 
the  idea,  and  merely  asked  Montezuma  to  permit  the  stran- 


J “Par^ceme,  Sefior  Padre,  que  st  ra  bien  que  demos  un  tiento  a Montezuma  ; sobre  que  ooa 
4exe  hazer  aqui  neustra  Igleeia.” — Bemal  Diaz^  “ Ilistoria  de  la  Conquista.'" 


FERNANDO  CORTES. 


277 


gers  to  see  his  gods.  For  the  first  time  a Christian  entered 
those  dread  abodes  of  idolatry. 

In  a tower  they  beheld  two  hideous  figures  seated  on  an 
altar,  under  a canopy.  One  had  a broad  face,  wide  mouth, 
and  terrible  eyes  : the  other  had  a countenance  like  that  of 
a bear.  Before  these  idols  were  burning  eight  real  hearts  of 
men  who  had  that  day  been  sacrificed.  The  walls  were 
black  with  clotted  blood.  The  stench  was  sickening.  In 
short,  it  was  a sight  awful  and  revolting,  and  Cortes  did  not 
attempt  to  conceal  his  just  and  Christian  indignation.  The 
Spaniards  marched  back  to  their  quarters,  sickened  and  sad- 
dened, but  somewhat  enhghtened  as  to  the  nature  and  bar- 
barous customs  of  the  men  by  whom  they  were  surrounded. 

Cortes  felt  the  peculiar  danger  and  delicacy  of  his  situ- 
ation. From  a concurrence  of  circumstances,  no  less  unex- 
pected than  favorable  to  his  progress,  he  had  been  allowed 
with  a handful  of  soldiers  to  penetrate  into  the  heart  of  a 
powerful  empire,  without  having  once  met  with  open  oppo- 
sition from  its  ruler.  He  was  now  lodged  in  its  capital. 
The  Tlascalans,  however,  had  earnestly  dissuaded  the  Span- 
iards from  placing  such  confidence  in  Montezuma  as  to  enter 
a city  so  singularly  situated  as  Mexico,  where  that  monarch 
would  have  them  at  his  mercy,  shut  up  as  it  were  in  a snare, 
from  which  it  was  impossible  to  escape. 

They  assured  the  Spaniards  that  the  Mexican  priests  had 
— in  the  name  of  the  gods — counseled  their  Sovereign  to 
admit  the  strangers  into  the  capital,  that  he  might  cut  them 
off  at  one  blow,  with  perfect  security.  Cortes  only  too 
plainly  perceived  that  the  apprehension  of  his  allies  was  not 
destitute  of  foundation ; that  by  breaking  the  bridges  placed 
at  certain  distances  on  the  causeways,  the  retreat  of  his  band 
of  Castilians  would  be  next  to  impossible,  and  that  he  would 
have  to  remain  cooped  up  in  the  center  of  a hostile  city, 
surrounded  by  savage  multitudes  sufficient  to  overwhelm 
his  forces. 

The  genius  of  Cortes  at  once  grasped  the  idea  that  the 
success  of  his  enterprise  entirely  depended  upon  supporting 
the  high  opinion  which  the  people  of  Mexico  had  formed 


278 


HERNANDO  GORT&S. 


with  respect  to  the  irresistible  power  of  his  arms.  To  be 
timid  was  to  be  lost.  The  least  sign  of  fear  might  bring 
Montezuma  to  let  loose  upon  him  the  whole  force  of  the 
empire.  A bold  step  had  involved  him  in  difficulties,  but 
he  ventured  on  a still  bolder — perhaps,  the  boldest  in  all 
history. 

He  resolved  to  seize  Montezuma,  in  his  own  palace,  and 
bring  him  as  a prisoner  to  the  Spanish  quarters.  Various 
causes  urged  him  to  act  thus.  From  the  superstitious  ven- 
eration of  the  Mexicans  for  the  person  of  their  Monarch,  as 
well  as  their  implicit  submission  to  his  will,  Cortes  hoped 
that  by  having  Montezuma  in  his  hands,  he  would  have  a 
sacred  pledge  which  would  secure  him  from  their  violence. 
He  moreover  thought  that  with  the  Emperor  once  in  his 
power,  all  the  provinces  of  the  Mexican  empire  would  be 
easily  brought  under  Spanish  rule.  He  communicated  the 
perilous  scheme  to  his  troops,  and,  according  to  Bernal  Diaz, 
they  passed  the  night  in  praying  to  God,  “that  the  enter- 
prise might  be  so  conducted  as  to  redound  to  His  holy 
service.  ’ ’ ' 

The  recent  killing  of  a few  Spaniards  outside  the  city  was 
made  the  pretext.  Until  the  matter  was  cleared  up,  Cortes 
declared,  Montezuma  must  come  and  live  with  his  forces  in 
their  quarters.  He  added  kind  and  soothing  words,  but 
the  Mexican  Monarch  sat  stupefied  at  the  bold  demand.  “ I 
am  not  one  of  those  persons,”  he  replied,  “who  are  put  in 
irons.  Even  if  I were  to  consent,  my  subjects  would  never 
permit  it.”  The  Spanish  General  persisted,  however,  in  his 
demand,  and  Montezuma  finally  yielded.  In  deep  silence 
he  was  borne  out  of  his  palace — never  more  to  return.  He 
was  hurried  in  silent  pomp  to  the  Spanish  quarters. 
“This,”  says  Helps,  “is  an  unparalleled  transaction.  There 
is  nothing  like  it,  I believe,  in  the  annals  of  the  world.”  ’ 

' “Rosando  a Dios,  qne  fuesse  do  tal  mode,  qne  redundasse  para  sn  santo  servicio.  ”—5«rnai 
Diaz. 

’ “Now  that  I am  an  old  man."  writes  the  veteran  Diaz,  fifty  years  after  ho  witnessed  the  above 
event,  “I  often  entertain  myself  with  calling  to  mind  the  heroic  deeds  of  early  days  till  they  are 
as  fresh  as  yesterday.  I think  of  the  seizure  of  the  Indian  Monarch,  his  confinement  in  irons, 
and  the  execution  of  his  officers,  till  all  these  things  seem  actually  passing  before  me.  And,  as 
I ponder  on  our  exploits,  I feel  that  it  was  not  of  ourselves  that  we  performed  them,  but  that  it 
was  the  Providence  of  God  which  gnlfied  us.  Much  food  is  there  here  for  meditation." 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


279 


Montezuma  was  received  in  the  Spanish  quarters  with 
every  mark  of  high  respect.  He  was  attended  by  his  own 
domestics,  and  served  with  his  usual  state.  His  principal 
officers  had  free  access  to  him.  As  if  he  had  been  at  per- 
fect liberty,  he  carried  on  every  function  of  government. 
The  Castilians,  however,  kept  a careful  watch  over  their  royal 
prisoner-guest ; but  at  the  same  time  endeavored  to  soothe 
and  reconcile  him  to  his  situation  by  delicate  acts  of  regard 
and  attachment.'  Thus,  by  the  fortunate  temerity  of  Cortes, 
they  at  once  secured  to  themselves  more  extensive  authority 
in  the  Mexican  empire  than  it  would  be  possible  to  have 
acquired  in  a long  course  of  time  by  open  force.  In  the 
name  of  another  they  now  exercised  more  absolute  sway 
than  they  could  have  done  in  their  own. 

The  Spanish  General  did  not  hesitate  to  avail  himself  of 
the  powers  which  he  possessed  by  being  able  to  act  in  the 
name  of  Montezuma.  He  sent  some  of  his  best  qualified 
officers  into  different  parts  of  the  empire,  accompanied 
by  persons  of  distinction,  whom  Montezuma  appointed 
to  attend  to  them,  both  as  guides  and  protectors.  They 
visited  most  of  the  provinces,  viewed  their  soil  and  pro- 
ductions, they  surveyed  with  particular  care  the  districts 
which  yielded  gold  or  silver,  pitched  upon  several  places 
as  proper  points  for  future  colonies,  and  endeavored  to 
prepare  the  minds  of  the  Mexicans  for  submitting  to  Span- 
ish rule. 

With  the  keen  eye  of  thoughtful  genius  Cortes,  how- 
ever, saw  there  was  one  thing  still  wanting  to  complete 
his  security.  He  always  looked  ahead.  He  Avished  to 
have  command  of  the  lake  which  surrounded  the  great 
city.  This  would  open  a means  of  retreat,  if,  either  from 
levity  or  disgust,  the  Mexicans  should  take  arms  against 
him,  and  break  down  the  bridges  or  causeways.  With  him. 


* It  may  well  be  believed  that  the  Spaniards  did  not  neglect  the  opportunity  afforded  by  hLs 
residence  with  them  of  instilling  into  him  some  notions  of  the  Christian  doctrine.  Fathers  Diaz 
and  Olmedo  exhausted  all  their  battery  of  logic  and  persuasion  to  shake  his  faith  in  his  idols, 
but  in  vain.  He,  indeed,  paid  a most  edifying  attention,  which  gave  promise  of  better  things. 
Bnt  the  conferences  always  closed  with  the  declaration  that  “ the  God  of  the  Christians  was 
good,  but  that  the  gods  of  his  own  country  were  the  true  gods  for  him.” — Preteott. 


280 


HERNANDO  CORTES 


to  plirvn  was  to  accomplish.  Having  frequently  entertained 
Montezuma  with  accounts  of  ships  and  the  art  of  naviga- 
tion, he  awakened  the  latter’s  curiosity  to  see  those  mov- 
ing palaces,  which  without  oars  made  their  way  through 
the  water. 

Under  the  pretext  of  gratifying  this  desire,  Cortes  re- 
quested Montezuma  to  appoint  some  of  his  subjects  to  bring 
to  the  city  part  of  the  naval  stores  which  the  Spaniards  had 
left  at  Vera  Ci  nz,  and  to  employ  others  in  cutting  down  and 
preparing  timber.  It  was  done.  And  with  Mexican  assist- 
ance, the  Castilian  carpenters  soon  completed  two  brigan- 
tines. A new  source  of  amusement  was  thus  afforded  to 
the  dusky  Monarch,  and  a means  of  escape  to  Cortes,  if  he 
should  be  obliged  to  retire. 

The  Spanish  Commander  felt  that  the  time  had  arrived  to 
persuade  Montezuma  to  give  some  public  sign  of  fealty  to 
the  King  of  Spain.  It  was  certainly  a trying  test.  The 
Mexican  Monarch’ s elastic  power  of  submission  was  now  to 
be  stretched  to  the  utmost.  He  called  together  the  chief 
men  of  his  empire,  and  reminded  them  in  a solemn  speech  of 
the  traditions  and  prophecies  which  led  them  to  expect  the 
aiTival  of  a people  sprung  from  the  same  stock  as  themselves 
in  order  to  take  possession  of  the  supreme  power.  He  de 
dared  his  belief  that  the  Spaniards  were  this  promised  race. 
He  said  he  recognized  the  right  of  their  King  to'  govern  the 
Mexican  empire,  and  that  he  would  lay  down  his  crown  and 
obey  the  Spanish  Sovereign  as  a tributary.  His  grief  was 
visible,  for  he  wept.  This  act  of  submission  and  homage 
was  executed  with  all  due  formality.  "What  a sudden  change 
in  the  position  of  a vast  empire ! 

But  the  grand  triumph  of  Cortes,  and  that  use  of  his 
power  for  which  he  has  been  likened  to  Judas  Maccabeus, 
was  in  the  destruction  of  the  hideous  Mexican  idols,  the 
cleansing  of  their  foul  temples,  and  the  stern  forbidding  of 
human  sacrifices  any  more.  Montezuma  himself  and  many 
of  his  chief  men  were  present  at  the  downfall  of  the  idols. 
It  must  have  been  a glorious  sight. 

About  six  months  had  now  passed  away  since  the  Mexi- 


COK  TES  DESTROYING  MEXICAN  IDOLS. 


*1  • d 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


281 


can  Monarch  began  to  live  in  the  Spanish  quarters.'  One 
day  he  sent  for  Cortes.  They  retired  to  a room,  and  Mon- 
tezuma thus  addressed  the  Spanish  General:  “I  pray  you, 
take  your  departure  from  this  my  city  and  my  land,  for  my 
gods  are  very  angry  that  I keep  you  here.  Ask  of  me  what 
you  may  want,  and  I will  give  it  to  you.  Do  not  think  that 
I say  this  to  you  in  any  jest,  but  very  much  in  earnest. 
Therefore,  fulfill  my  desire,  that  so  it  may  be  done,  whatever 
may  occur.” 

Cortes  w-as  a man  whom  events  might  surprise,  but  never 
discompose.  “I  have  heard  what  you  have  said,”  he  re- 
plie€l,  “and  thank  you  much  for  it.  Name  a time  when  you 
wish  us  to  depart,  and  so  it  shall  be.” 

“I  do  not  wish  you  to  hurry,”  said  the  politic  Monte- 
zuma. “Take  the  time  that  seems  to  you  necessary;  and 
when  you  do  go,  I will  give  to  you,  Cortes,  two  loads  of 
gold,  and  one  to  each  of  your  companions.” 

“You  are  already  well  aware,”  remarked  the  Spanish 
General,  “how  I destroyed  my  ships,  when  I first  landed  in 
your  territory.  But  now  we  have  need  of  others  to  return  to 
our  own  country.  I should  be  obliged  if  you  would  give  us 
workmen  to  cut  and  work  the  timber ; and  when  the  vessels 
are  built,  we  shall  take  our  departure.  Of  this  you  can  in- 
form your  gods  and  your  subjects.” 

Montezuma  assented.  Mexican  workmen  were  sent  to 
Vera  Cruz  under  Spanish  officers.  The  building  of  ships 
was  begun  in  earnest. 

From  the  day  of  this  interview,  however,  the  tone  of  the 
Mexican  ruler  towards  Cortes  was  changed.  The  Spaniards 
began  to  appreciate  the  danger  of  their  position ; and  went 
about  fully  prepared  for  a sudden  attack  at  any  moment. 
Indeed,  this  little  body  of  men  lived  in  their  armor,  and 
formed  such  habits  of  wariness  that  years  of  peace  could 
not  efface  the  watchful  customs  which  they  had  acquired  at 
this  eventful  period  of  their  lives,  so  much  so,  that  one  of 


' Cortes  entered  the  city  of  Mexico  on  the  8th  of  Novemher,  1519.  It  wag  now  the  beginning  of 
May,  1520;  and  in  these  few  months  he  had  accomplished  more  than  any  conqueror — before  on 
after  him— ever  did  with  so  email  a force  at  his  command.— ZlWps. 


282 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


them  afterwards  describes  how  he  could  never  pass  a night 
in  bed,  but  must  get  up  and  walk  about  in  the  open  air,  and 
gaze  at  the  stars.'  If  such  were  the  feelings  of  the  common 
soldiers,  what  must  have  been  the  sleepless  anxiety  of  their 
Commander  ? 

Only  a few  of  those  days  of  fear  and  suspense  had  worn 
away,  when  Cortes  received  intelligence  of  a most  perplex 
ing  event.  Eighteen  ships  had  arrived  in  the  Bay  of  San 
Juan,  not  far  from  his  little  colony  of  V^era  Cruz.  It  was 
alarming  news. ' The  General  instantly  sent  messengers  in 
various  directions  to  glean  further  information  in  regard  to 
the  ships.  At  last,  Montezuma  informed  him  that  he  was 
aware  of  the  arrival  of  the  newcomers.  He  showed  Cortes 
a picture  of  the  force.  It  had  disembarked,  and  consisted 
of  eighty  horses,  eight  hundred  men,  and  ten  or  twelve  can- 
non. The  Mexican  ruler  also  intimated,  it  is  said,  that 
there  was  now  no  excuse  for  the  Spaniards  to  delay  their  re- 
turn home. 

This  formidable  armament  was  sent  by  his  former  master, 
and  now  bitter  enemy.  Governor  Velasquez  of  Cuba.  It  was 
commanded  by  De  Narvaez,  an  experienced  general ; and 
his  instructions  were  to  seize  Cortes  and  his  companions. 
He  sent  a flattering  message  to  Montezuma,  telling  him  that 
lie  came  to  release  him.  He  also  sought  to  gain  the  little 
garrison  at  Vera  Cruz,  but  they  were  true  to  their  Comman- 
der. To  Cortes  the  danger  was  imminent,  and,  like  a hero, 
he  met  it  more  than  half-way. 

Leaving  a brave  officer  named  Alvarado  in  command,  he 
departed  from  the  city  at  the  head  of  only  seventy  of  his 

* During  the  nine  months  that  the  Spaniards  remained  in  Mexico,  every  man,  without  any  dis- 
tinction between  oflScers  and  soldiers,  slept  on  his  arms,  in  his  qu.lted  jacket.  They  lay  on 
mats,  or  straw  spread  on  the  floor;  and  each  was  obliged  to  hold  himself  in  instant  readiness. 
“ This,”  writes  the  soldier-historian,  Bernal  Diaz,  “ became  so  habitual  to  me,  that  even  now  in 
my  advanced  age,  I always  sleep  in  my  clothes,  and  never  in  my  bed.  When  I visit  my  Encomi- 
enda,  I deem  it  suitable  to  ray  rank  to  have  a bed  carried  along  with  my  other  baggage,  hut  I 
never  go  into  it.  According  to  custom  I lie  in  my  clothes,  and  walk  frequently  during  the  night 
into  the  open  air  to  view  the  stars,  as  I was  wont  when  in  the  service.  And,  thanks  be  to  God,  I 
have  received  no  harm  from  it.  I mention  these  things  that  the  world  may  understand  of  what 
stuff  we,  the  true  Conquerors,  were  made,  and  how  well  drilled  we  were  to  arms  and  watching.” 

^ Cortes  received  this  news  from  one  of  his  oflflcers  whom  he  had  appointed  to  watch  the  coast 
What  a striking  instance  of  his  remarkable  foresight. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


283 


tried  and  trusted  followers,  and  by  forced  marches  pushed 
on  towards  Cempoalla.  On  the  way  he  learned  that  Nar- 
vaez occupied  the  great  temple,  and  at  once  determined  on 
a night  assault.  His  plans  were  laid  with  amazing  skill. 
The  sentinels  were  surprised  at  their  posts.  The  attack  was 
bold  and  sudden,  and  in  a few  minutes  Narvaez  and  all  his 
men  were  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  Cortes!' 

The  prisoners  soon  ranged  themselves  under  the  banner  of 
the  conqueror;  and  thus  a great  danger  was  turned  into  a 
welcome  succor.  Cortes  received  the  vanquished  troops  in 
the  most  winning  manner,  and  at  once  created  an  enthusiasm 
in  his  favor.’  One  of  the  soldiers  of  Narvaez — a negro  and 
a comical  fellow — danced  and  shouted  for  joy,  crying: 
“AVhere  are  the  Romans  who  with  such  small  numbers  ever 
achieved  so  great  a victory?” 

Two  weeks  after  this,  a travel-worn  courier  hurried  up  to 
Cortes,  and  communicated  most  unwelcome  intelligence. 
The  Spanish  garrison  in  Mexico,  he  said,  were  besieged  by  the 
citizens,  and  were  in  extreme  peril.  The  four  brigantines 
on  the  lake  had  been  burned.  Fury  possessed  the  barba- 
rous multitude.  In  short,  Alvarado  implored  his  General 
for  the  love  of  God  to  lose  no  time  in  hastening  to  his 
assistance ! 

This  revolt  was  excited  by  motives  which  rendered  it  very 


> During  this  brief  conflict,  the  moon — as  if  she  had  been  a partisan  of  Cortes  and  was  weary  of 
looking  down  upon  the  horrid  sacrifices  to  which  he  was  endeavoring  to  put  an  end — withdrew 
herself  behind  the  clouds,  and  suffered  the  Narvaez  faction,  new  to  the  land,  to  believe  that  cer- 
tain luminous  creatures  (Cocayos)  were  the  glittering  of  numerous  muskets  in  the  hands  of  the 
troops  of  Cortes,  No  sooner,  however,  was  the  action  decided,  than  she  came  forth  in  all  her 
splendor,  to  illustrate  and  honor  the  victory  I — Helpu. 

’ In  the  encounter  Narvaez  lost  an  eye.  He  was  sent  as  a prisoner  to  Vera  Cruz.  He  was  a 
brave  man,  but  misfortune  marked  his  after  career,  and  his  fate  was  tragic.  Among  those  who 
formed  part  of  his  expedition  to  Florida,  in  1528,  was  the  Rt.  Rev.  John  Juarez,  who  had  been 
appointed  by  the  Holy  See  Bishop  of  Florida.  The  expedition  reached  Florida  in  April.  1528. 
Narvaez  and  his  men,  accompanied  by  the  prelate  and  a few  priests,  began  their  march  into  tha 
interior.  Juarez,  it  may  be  remarked,  was  the  first  Bishop,  and  his  companions  the  first  mission- 
aries who  set  foot  within  the  present  limits  of  the  United  States.  Disease,  aided  by  the  hostility 
of  the  savage  natives,  made  their  course  one  series  of  disasters.  While  crossing  Uobile  Bay  in  a 
boat,  the  Bishop  and  his  companions  were  nearly  drowned,  being  saved  only  by  the  skill  and 
bravery  of  Narvaez.  The  next  day  Narvaez  himself  was  driven  out  to  sea,  and  never  again  heard 
of.  Bishop  Juarez  and  Brother  John  de  Palos  were  last  seen  together.  It  is  supposed  they  per- 
ished of  hunger,  or  at  the  hands  of  the  Indians.  Thus  the  American  Church  had  its  martyrs  only 
thirty-six  years  after  the  discovery  of  the  continent. — "Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Church 
in  the  United  States." 


284 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


alarming.  On  the  departure  of  Cortes  for  Cempoalla,  the 
Mexicans  flattered  themselves  that  the  long-expected  oppor- 
tunity of  restoring  Montezuma  to  liberty,  and  of  freeing 
their  country  from  the  dominion  of  the  dreaded  strangers, 
was  at  length  arrived.  The  Spanish  forces  were  divided, 
and  the  General  was  absent.  Consultations  were  held. 
Many  schemes  were  formed.  The  Spaniards  knew  their 
own  feebleness,  and  suspected  and  dreaded  a conspiracy. 

Alvarado,  though  a gallant  officer,  possessed  neither  that 
wonderful  capacity  nor  dignity  of  manners  by  which  Cortes 
had  acquired  such  an  ascendancy  over  the  minds  of  the 
Mexicans,  as  never  allowed  them  to  form  a just  estimate  of 
his  weakness  or  of  their  own  strength.  Alvarado  knew  no 
mode  of  supporting  his  authority  but  force.  He  thought  of 
no  means  of  persuasion  but  his  sword.  Instead  of  employ- 
ing address  to  disconcert  the  plans,  or  to  soothe  the  spirits 
of  the  plotting  Mexicans,  he  waited  the  return  of  one  of 
their  solemn  pagan  festivals,  when  the  chief  persons  in  the 
empire  were  dancing,  according  to  custom,  in  the  court  of 
the  great  temple.  He  attacked  the  crowd  with  all  his  force,  ‘ 
and  the  massacre  was  fearful.  It  was  wild  and  bloody 
work.  The  news  of  this  event  filled  the  city  with  rage  and 
fury.  Vengeance  walked  the  streets.  The  Spaniards  were 
besieged,  and  all  those  acts  of  violence  were  committed  of 
which  Cortes  received  an  account. 

The  distant  General  lost  no  time,  but,  gathering  his  men 
around  him,  he  began  his  march  for  the  capital.  At  Tlas- 
cala,  all  was  friendly.  Reviewing  his  troops  there,  he  found 
that  they  amounted  to  thirteen  hundred  soldiers,  ninety-six 
of  whom  were  horsemen,  eighty  cross-bow  men,  and  about 
eighty  musketeers.”  With  this  hardy  force  he  made  rapid 
strides  towards  Mexico,  and  reached  the  city  on  the  24th  of 
June,  1520.  It  was  St.  John  the  Baptist’s  Day.  He  passed 
over  the  great  causeway  by  which  he  first  entered.  But  how 
changed  was  the  scene ! No  crowds  now  lined  the  roads,  no 
boats  swarmed  on  t;  e lake.  Over  all  brooded  a death-like 


> He  had  only  140  Spaniards  under  his  command. 

* These  figures  are  from  Bernal  Diaz.  Other  accounts  yary  somewhat 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


285 


silence.  It  was  a stillness  that  spoke  louder  to  the  heart  than 
the  acclamations  of  multitudes ! 

When  Cortes  arrived  at  his  own  quarters  he  found  the 
gates  barred,  so  strict  had  been  the  siege.  He  had  to 
demand  an  entry.  Alvarado  appeared  upon  the  battle- 
ments, and  asked  if  Cortes  came  in  as  free  as  he  went 
out,  and  if  he  were  still  their  General.  The  Commander 
replied,  “Yes,”  and  that  he  came  with  victory  and  in- 
creased forces.  The  gates  were  opened,  and  Cortes  and 
his  veterans  rushed  in.  On  both  sides  the  greeting  was 
most  affectionate. 

Cortes  eagerly  inquired  as  to  the  causes  of  the  revolt,  put- 
ting many  questions  to  Alvarado.  When  the  latter  had 
concluded  his  answers,  the  brow  of  the  Commander  dark- 
ened as  he  said  to  his  lieutenant : “You  have  done  badly. 
You  have  been  false  to  your  trust.  Your  conduct  has  been 
that  of  a madman!”  And,  turning  abruptly  on  his  heel, 
he  left  him  in  undisguised  displeasure.' 

Xext  day  the  whole  city  was  in  arms.  A messenger  in- 
formed Cortes  that  the  draw-bridges  were  raised.  In  a few 
hours  the  surging  multitude,  headed  by  Montezuma’s 
brother,  advanced  on  the  Spanish  quarters,  and  fiercely 
began  the  assault.  It  was  a spectacle  to  appall  the  stoutest 
heart.  The  stones  fell  like  hail,  and  the  arrows  came  in 
showers.  Cortes  made  two  or  three  desperate  sallies,  but 
himself  and  eighty  of  his  men  were  wounded. 

At  day-break  the  following  morning,  the  attack  was 
renewed.  There  was  no  occasion  for  the  gunners  to  take 
any  particular  aim,  for  the  Mexicans  advanced  in  such  dense 
masses  that  they  could  not  be  missed.  The  gaps  made 
in  these  masses  were  instantly  filled  up.  Veterans  in  the 
Spanish  army  who  had  served  in  Italy,  France,  and  against 
the  Turks,  declared  that  they  liad  never  seen  men  close  up 
their  ranks  as  did  these  Mexicans  after  each  terrible  volley 
of  artillery.  They,  indeed,  often  staggered  under  the  fire, 
but  they  would  rally,  and  rush  on  to  the  very  muzzle  of  the 
cannon.  Again  and  again  Cortes  sallied  forth  against  the 


* Prescott. 


286 


UERNANDO  CORTES. 


bold  barbarians,  but  he  only  added  to  the  list  of  his 
wounded.* 

On  the  third  day,  the  unfortunate  Montezuma,  either  at 
the  request  of  the  Spanish  General,  or  of  his  own  accord, 
came  out  upon  a battlement,  and  addressed  the  angry  mul- 
titudes. He  was  dressed  in  his  imperial  robes,  was  sur- 
rounded by  Castilian  soldiers,  and  was  at  first  received  with 
honor  and  respect  by  his  people.  He  spoke  to  them  in 
loving  words,  advised  them  to  cease  the  attack,  and  assured 
them  that  the  Spaniards  would  depart  from  Mexico. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  parley,  a murmur  ran  through 
the  crowd,  and  a shower  of  stones  and  arrows  flew.  For 
the  moment  the  Spanish  soldiers  had  ceased  to  protect  the 
Monarch  with  their  shields;  and  he  was  severely  wounded 
in  the  head  and  in  two  other  places.  He  was  borne  away. 
He  had  received  his  death-stroke.  Whether  it  came  from 
the  wounds  themselves,  or  from  the  indignity  of  being  thus 
treated  by  his  people,  remains  a doubtful  point.  Cortes, 
his  chaplain  and  officers  did  all  they  could  to  heal  his 
wounds  and  soothe  his  anguish  of  mind,  but  in  a little 
while,  Montezuma  was  no  more.’ 

Difficulties  were  daily  thickening.  New  dangers  menaced 
the  garrison.  Opposite  the  Spanish  quarters,  at  only  a few 
rods’  distance,  stood  a great  pyramidal  temple.  It  rose  to 
the  height  of  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet,  and  its  ele- 
vated position  completely  commanded  the  palace  occupied 
by  the  Christians.  A body  of  five  hundred  chosen  Mexican 
nobles  and  warriors  threw  themselves  into  this  lofty  struc- 


' On  his  way  back  to  his  quarters,  Cortes  beheld  his  friend  and  secretary,  Dnero,  in  a street 
adjoining,  unhorsed  and  hotly  engaged  tvith  a body  of  Mexicans,  against  whom  he  was  desper- 
ately defending  himself  with  his  poniard.  Cortes,  roused  at  the  sight,  shouted  his  war-cry,  and, 
dashing  into  the  midst  of  the  enemy,  scattered  them  like  chaff  by  the  fury  of  his  onset;  then, 
recovering  his  friend’s  horse,  he  enabled  him  to  remount,  and  the  two  cavaliers,  striking  their 
spurs  into  their  steeds,  burst  through  their  opponents  and  joined  the  main  body  of  the  army. 
Such  displays  of  generous  gallantry  were  not  uncommon  in  these  engagements,which  called  forth 
more  feats  of  personal  adventure  than  battles  with  antagonists  better  skilled  in  the  science  of 
war. — Prescott. 

’ It  appears  that  Montezuma  did  not  become  a Christian.  On  his  death-bed,  however,  he  com- 
mended three  favorite  daughters  to  the  protection  of  Cortes.  After  their  father’s  death  they  were 
baptized,  and  after  the  Conquest  were  married  to  Spaniards  of  honorable  family,  and  from  them 
have  descended  several  noble  houses  in  Spain.  Cortes  granted,  by  way  of  dowry,  to  the  eldest, 
Doha  Isabel,  the  city  of  Tabnca,  and  several  other  places. — Prescott. 


HERNANDO  CORTJSS 


28-) 

tiire,  and  galled  the  Spaniards  with  tempests  of  arrows.  To 
dislodge  this  new  enemy  was  absolutely  necessary. 

The  General  sent  one  of  his  best  officers  to  take  this  posi- 
tion, but  the  Spanish  soldiers  were  twice  repulsed.  Cortes, 
though  wounded,  determined  to  lead  the  attack  in  person. 
He  placed  somb  of  his  troops  at  the  base  of  the  temple,  and 
began  the  difficult  and  dangerous  ascent.  The  Spaniards, 
after  a terrible  combat,  gained  the  summit,  dislodged  their 
enemies  from  that  giddy  height,  and  drove  them  down  upon 
the  lower  terraces.  Then  might  be  seen  the  Indian  priests 
running  to  and  fro,  with  their  hair  clotted  and  bloody,  and 
wildly  streaming  over  their  sable  mantles.  Hovering  in 
mid-air,  they  seemed  like  so  many  demons  of  darkness 
urging  on  the  work  of  slaughter.  But  every  one  of  the 
Mexicans  were  put  to  the  sword. 

This  fight  is  one  of  the  most  picturesque  on  record.  It 
lasted  three  hours  ; and,  to  use  the  words  of  Bernal  Diaz : 
“Cortes  there  showed  himself  to  be  a very  valiant  man,  as 
he  always  was.”  It  is  said  he  had  a narrow  escape  from  the 
dreadful  fate  of  being  thro^vm  from  the  top  of  the  tower. 
Two  warriors  of  strong,  muscular  frames  seized  on  him,  and 
were  dragging  him  violently  towards  the  brink.  Aware  of 
their  intention,  he  struggled  with  all  his  force,  and  before 
they  could  accomplish  their  purpose,  succeeded  in  tearing 
himself  from  their  grasp,  and  hurling  one  of  them  over  the 
walls  with  his  own  arm! ' 

The  victory  in  the  temple  was  a momentary  gleam  of 
success  for  the  Spanish  arms.  It  afforded  Cortes  an  oppor- 
tunity to  resume  peace  negotiations.  But  the  savage  deter- 
mination of  the  Mexicans  was  complete.  In  vain  did  the 
Spanish  General  press  them  to  consider  the  havoc  he  was 
daily  making  among  the  citizens.  They  were  aware  of  it, 
was  the  reply,  but  they  would  all  perish,  if  that  were  need- 
ful, to  gain  their  point  of  utterly  destroying  the  Spaniards. 

The  enraged  multitudes  bade  Cortes  to  look  at  the  streets, 
squares,  and  terraces ; and  then,  in  a business-like  way,  they 
solemnly  assured  him  that  if  25,000  Mexicans  were  to  die 


' Prescott. 


288 


HlL'MJSAJSinO  CORTEb. 


for  each  Spaniard,  still  the  Spaniards  would  perish  first. 
These  furious  barbarians  jeeringly  called  his  attention  to  the 
fact  that  all  the  causeways  were  destroyed,  and  that  hunger 
and  thirst  were  already  staring  the  Spaniards  in  the  very 
face.  “In  truth,”  writes  Cortes  himself,  “they  had  much 
reason  in  what  they  said,  for  if  we  had  no  other  enemy  to 
fight  against  but  hunger,  it  was  sufficient  to  destroy  us  all 
in  a short  time !” 

It  generally  requires  as  much  courage  to  retreat  as  to  ad- 
vance, and  few  leaders  have  the  ready  wisdom  to  retreat  in 
time.  But  Cortes,  on  finding  that  it  was  impossible  to  hold 
his  position,  lost  no  time  or  energy  in  parleying  vdth  dan- 
ger. That  very  night  he  resolved  to  quit  Mexico. 

At  midnight  the  troops  were  under  arms,  in  readiness  for 
the  march.  Mass  was  celebrated  by  the  venerable  Father 
Olmedo,  who  invoked  the  protection  of  the  Almighty  on 
the  little  army.  The  gates  were  thrown  open,  and  July  the 
1st,  1520,  the  Spaniards  for  the  last  time  sallied  forth  from 
the  walls  of  the  ancient  fortress,  the  scene  of  so  much  suf- 
fering and  such  indomitable  courage.  The  force  began  to 
move  in  three  divisions.  The  brave  and  youthful  Sandoval 
led  the  van.  Alvarado  brought  up  the  rear-guard.  Cortes 
himself  commanded  in  the  center,  where  he  placed  the 
prisoners,  among  whom  were  a son  and  two  daughters  of 
Montezuma,  together  with  several  Mexicans  of  distinction, 
the  artillery,  baggage,  and  a portable  bridge  of  timber,  in- 
tended to  be  thrown  over  the  breaches  in  the  causeway. 
They  marched  in  profound  silence  along  the  shortest  cause- 
way,' and  had  reached  the  first  breach  in  it  before  their 
retreat  seemed  to  be  discovered.’  In  a moment  the  alarm 
was  given. 

Loud  shouts  and  blowing  of  horns  were  heard  in  all 
directions.  ^ “Come  out  quickly  in  your  canoes,”  yelled 
the  frantic  Mexicans.  “The  teules  are  going.  Cut  them 

> It  was  about  two  miles  in  b ngth. 

’ The  M xicans.  however,  had  been  wide  awake  all  night.  IJnperceived  they  had  watched 
every  movement  of  the  Spaniards,  and  were  quite  ready  to  make  a formidable  attack  when  the 
alarm  sounded. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


289 


off  at  the  bridges!”  The  lake  was  soon  covered  with 
canoes.  It  rained,  and  the  misfortunes  of  the  night  began 
by  two  horses  slipping  from  the  pontoon  into  the  w-ater. 
Flights  of  arrows  and  showers  of  stones  poured  in  upon 
the  Spaniards  from  every  quarter.  The  wild  barbarians 
rushed  forward  to  the  charge  with  fearless  impetuosity, 
as  if  they  hoped  in  that  moment  to  take  full  vengeance  for 
the  past. 

Unfortunately  the  wooden  bridge,  by  the  w’eight  of  the  ar- 
tillery, got  wedged  so  fast  into  the  stones  and  mud,  that  it 
was  impossible  for  the  troops  to  remove  it.  This  accident 
caused  dismay,  and  the  Spaniards  advanced  with  haste  to- 
wards the  second  breach.  But  the  Mexicans  hemmed  them 
in  on  every  side,  and  though  they  defended  themselves  with 
all  the  bravery  of  skilled  and  desperate  soldiers,  yet,  crowded 
together  as  they  were  on  a narrow  causeway,  their  disci- 
pline and  military  science  were  of  little  avail ; nor  did  the 
darkness  of  the  night  permit  them  to  derive  any  great  ad- 
vantage fro.m  their  fire-arms,  or  the  superiority  of  their  other 
w'eapons.  The  position  was  truly  appalling! 

The  w'hole  city  was  now  in  arms,  and  so  eager  were  the 
excited  multitudes  for  the  destruction  of  the  Spaniards,  that 
those  who  were  not  near  enough  to  annoy  them  in  person, 
impatient  of  delay,  pressed  forwards  with  such  ardor,  as 
drove  on  theu’  countrymen  in  the  front  with  irresistible 
violence.  Fresh  warriors  instantly  filled  the  place  of  such  as 
fell.  The  Castilians  w^ere  weary  with  slaughter,  and,  unable 
any  longer  to  sustain  the  weight  of  the  torrent  that  poured 
in  upon  them,  began  to  give  way.  In  a moment  all  was  con- 
fusion. Horse  and  foot,  officers  and  soldiers,  friends  and 
enemies  were  mingled  together.  And  while  all  fought,  and 
many  fell,  scarcely  any  could  distinguish  from  what  hand 
the  blow  came. 

In  a very  short  time,  the  water  was  full  of  dead  horses, 
Indians,  Spaniards,  baggage,  prisoners,  and  artillery.  On 
every  side  the  most  piteous  cries  were  heard — “Help  me!  I 
drown!”  “Rescue  me!  they  are  killing  me!”  Prayers  to 
the  Most  Blessed  Virgin  and  St.  James  were  mingled  with 


290 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


the  groans  of  the  dying,  and  the  shouts  of  desperate  wax  • 
liors. 

At  the  second  bi’idge-way,  a single  beam  only  was  found. 
It  was,  of  course,  useless  for  the  horses ; but  the  watchful 
genius  of  Cortes  found  a shallow  place  where  the  water  did 
not  reach  further  than  up  to  the  saddle.  Here  he  passed  at 
the  head  of  his  cavalry,  and  succeeded  in  reaching  the  main- 
land. The  foot  soldiers  also  contrived  in  some  way  to  follow. 
The  General  left  the  van -guard  and  his  own  division  safe 
on  shore,  and  returned  to  give  what  assistance- he  could 
to  the  unfortunate  men  who  were  still  behind. 

But  few  of  the  rear-guard  escaped.  It  is  told  as  a wonder 
of  A Ivarado,  that,  coming  to  the  last  bridge,  he  made  a leap 
— which  by  many  has  been  deemed  impossible — and  cleared 
the  vast  opening.  On  coming  up  to  him,  Cortes  found  that 
his  lieutenant  was  accompanied  by  only  seven  Spaniards  and 
etff7U  Tlascalans,  all  covered  with  blood  and  wounds.  They 
told  their  Commander  that  it  was  useless  to  go  further.  All 
who  remained  alive  were  with  them! 

On  hearing  this,  the  General  turned  back.  It  was  not  yet 
day-break,  but  the  small  and  melancholy  band  of  Spaniards 
pushed  on,  Cortes  protecting  the  rear.  Morning  soon  dawned, 
and  he  reviewed  the  shattered  remains  of  his  heroic  little 
army.  The  remembrance  of  so  many  faithful  friends  and 
gallant  followers  who  had  fallen  in  that  night  of  sorrow' 
pierced  his  soul  with  anguish.  It  is  said  that  he  sat  down 
on  a stone,  and  wept  at  the  sad  sight.  But  as  the  country 
was  aroused  against  them,  the  exhausted  veterans  did  not 
rest  till  they  had  fortified  themselves  in  a temple  on  a hill 
at  some  distance  from  Mexico.’  A church  was  afterwards 
built  here,  and  very  appropriately  dedicated  to  Neustra 
Senora  de  los  Remedios—0\xx  Lady  of  Refuge. 

In  this  disastrous  flight,  all  the  artillery  and  forty-six 
horses  were  lost,  eight  hundred  and  seventy  Spaniards  per- 
ished,’ and  four  thousand  of  the  Indian  allies  were  killed, 

> This  memorable  night  has  ever  been  celebrated  in  American  history  as  La  noche  IrisU.— 
Help/t. 

’ It  was  the  morning  of  the  let  of  July,  1520. 

■>  This  is  the  estimation  of  Bernal  Diaz. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


291 


including  one  son  and  two  daughters  of  Montezuma.  A 
loss  which  posterity  will  ever  regret  was  that  of  the  books, 
memorials,  and  writings.  These,  it  is  said,  contained  a nar- 
rative of  all  that  had  happened  since  Cortes  left  Cuba. 

The  Spaniards  now  took  the  road  for  Tlascala,  the  only 
place  where  they  could  hope  for  a friendly  reception.  It 
was  about  sixty-four  miles  east  of  the  city  of  Mexico.  Day 
after  day,  they  marched  on  through  a savage  and  hostile 
country,  always  fighting  and  always  encumbered  with  ene- 
mies. Numerous  bodies  of  Mexicans  continued  to  hover 
around  them,  sometimes  harassing  them  at  a distance  with 
fiights  of  stones  and  arrows,  and  sometimes  attacking  them 
closely  in  front,  in  rear,  in  flank,  and  always  with  great 
boldness,  as  they  knew  that  the  Castilians  were  not  in- 
vincible. 

Nor  were  the  fatigue  and  dangers  of  those  incessant  con- 
flicts the  worst  evils  to  which  the  troops  were  exposed.  As 
the  barren  country  through  which  they  passed  afforded 
scarcely  any  provisions,  they  were  reduced  to  feed  on  ber- 
ries, roots,  and  stalks  of  green  maize;  and  at  the  very  time 
that  famine  was  thus  depressing  their  spirits  and  wasting 
their  strength,  their  situation  required  the  most  vigorous 
and  unceasing  exertions  of  courage  and  activity. 

But  amid  those  numberless  distresses,  one  circumstance 
supported  and  animated  the  sorely-tried  Spaniards.  It  was 
the  genius  of  their  dauntless  Commander.  He  sustained 
this  sad  reverse  of  fortune  with  unshaken  magnanimity. 
His  presence  of  mind  never  forsook  him.  His  keen  sagacity 
foresaw  every  event,  and  his  vigilance  provided  for  it.  He 
was  foremost  in  every  danger,  and  endured  every  hardship 
with  heroic  cheerfulness.  The  difficulties  by  which  he  was 
surrounded  seemed  to  call  forth  new  gifts;  and  his  soldiers, 
though  despairing  themselves,  continued  to  follow  him  with 
increasing  confidence  in  his  matchless  abilities. 

On  the  sixth  day  they  arrived  near  Otumba,  a valley  not 
far  from  the  boundary  line  between  Mexico  and  Tlascala. 
Early  next  morning  they  pushed  on,  flying  parties  of  the 
enemy  still  hanging  on  the  rear,  and  occasionally  shouting : 


292 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


“ Go  on,  robbers.  Go  to  the  place  where  you  shall  quickly 
meet  the  vengeance  due  to  your  crimes !” 

The  Spaniards  did  not  comprehend  the  meaning  of  this 
threat  until  they  reached  the  summit  of  the  mountain  steeps 
which  shut  in  the  valley  of  Otiimba.  Below  was  a sight 
that  might,  in  truth,  arouse  fear  in  the  breast  of  the  bravest 
cavalier,  A vast  army  of  Mexicans  extended  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach.  The  forces  of  the  empire  had  been  hastily 
collected  at  this  spot  to  dispute  the  passage  of  the  Chris- 
tians. Every  chief  of  note  had  taken  the  field  with  his 
whole  array  gathered  under  his  standard,  proudly  displaying 
all  the  pomp  and  rude  splendor  of  his  military  equipment. 

It  was  a spectacle  to  fill  the  stoutestheart  among  the  Span- 
iards with  dismay,  heightened  by  the  previous  expectation 
of  soon  reaching  the  friendly  land  which  was  to  terminate 
their  weary  pilgrimage.  Even  Cortes,  as  he  contrasted  the 
tremendous  array  before  him  with  his  own  diminished 
squadrons,  wasted  by  disease,  and  enfeebled  by  hunger  and 
fatigue,  could  not  escape  the  conviction  that  his  last  hour 
had  arrived.  But  his  was  not  the  heart  to  quail  before  dan- 
ger, and  he  gathered  strength  from  the  very  extremity  of 
his  situation.' 

He  addressed  a few  words  to  his  troops.  He  reminded 
Them  of  the  viotories  they  had  often  won  against  fearful 
odds;  and  remarked  that  numbers  were  of  no  account  when 
Heaven  was  on  their  side.  All  then  earnestly  commended 
themselves  to  the  protection  of  God,  the  Immaculate  Vir- 
gin, and  St.  James;  and  Cortes  led  his  brave  battalions 
straight  against  the  hosts  of  Mexico.  Every  man  felt  that 
it  must  now  be  death  or  victory. 

The  charge  of  the  cavalry  with  the  General  at  its  head  was 
irresistible.  It  penetrated  and  dispersed  the  most  numer- 
ous divisions  of  the  enemy.  The  infantry  fought  like  lions. 
But  while  the  Mexicans  gave  way  in  one  quarter,  fresh  com- 
batants advanced  from  another ; and  the  Spaniards,  though 
successful  in  every  attack,  were  ready  to  sink  under  these 
repeated  efforts,  without  seeing  any  end  to  their  t ^il,  or  any 


’ Prescott. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


293 


hope  of  victory  The  contest  had  now  lasted  several 
hours  High  the  sun  arose  in  the  heavens,  and  shed  an  in- 
tolerable heat  over  the  plain  The  tide  of  battle  was  set- 
ting rapidly  against  the  Christians ; and  all  that  remained 
for  them  seemed  to  be  to  sell  their  lives  as  dearly  as  pos- 
sible 

At  this  critical  moment,  Cortes,  whose  restless  eye  had 
been  roving  around  the  field  in  quest  of  any  object  that 
might  offer  him  the  means  of  arresting  the  coming  ruin, 
rising  in  his  stirrups,  descried  at  a distance,  in  the  midst 
of  the  throng,  the  chief  who  from  his  dress  and  military 
cortege,  he  knew  must  be  the  commander  of  the  barbarian 
forces.  The  eagle  glance  of  the  General  no  sooner  fell  on 
this  personage  than  a glow  of  triumph  lit  up  his  coun- 
tenance. 

He  turned  quickly  to  the  cavaliers  at  his  side — among 
whom  were  Sandoval  and  Alvarado — and  pointed  out  the 
chief,  exclaiming:  “There  is  our  mark  ! follow  and  support 
me!'-  Then,  crying  his  war-cry.  and  striking  his  iron  heel 
into  his  weary  steed,  he  plunged  headlong  into  the  thickest 
of  the  press.  His  enemies  fell  back,  taken  by  surprise  and 
daunted  by  the  ferocity  of  the  attack.  Those  who  did  not 
were  pierced  through  with  his  lance  or  borne  down  by  che 
weight  of  his  charger.  The  cavaliers  followed  close  in  the 
rear.  On  they  swept  with  the  fury  of  a thunderbolt,  cleav- 
ing the  solid  ranks  asunder,  strewing  their  paths  with  the 
dying  and  the  dead,  and  bounding  over  every  obstacle  in 
their  way  In  a few  minutes  they  were  in  the  presence  of 
the  Indian  commander,  and  Cortes,  overturning  his  sup- 
porters, sprang  forward  with  the  strength  of  a lion,  and 
striking  him  through  with  his  lance,  hurled  him  to  the 
ground  The  imperial  standard  was  captured.  It  was  all 
the  work  of  a moment. 

When  the  Mexican  leader  fell,  and  the  standard,  towards 
which  all  directed  their  eyes,  disappeared,  a general  panic 
seized  the  Indians,  and,  as  if  the  bond  which  held  them  to- 
gether had  been  dissolved,  every  ensign  was  lowered,  each 


' Prescott. 


294 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


dusky  warrior  threw  away  his  weapons,  and  all  fled  with 
the  utmost  precipitation  to  the  mountains.  The  Spaniards, 
unable  to  pursue  tl  em  far,  returned  to  collect  the  spoils  of 
the  fleld,  which  were  so  valuable  as  to  be  some  compensation 
for  their  toil  and  for  the  wealth  which  they  had  lost  in  the 
city  of  Mexico.  Next  day,  to  their  great  joy,  they  entered 
the  Tlascalan  territories. 

The  Tlascalan  chiefs  came  out  to  meet  the  hardy  veterans, 
and  instead  of  showing  any  coldness,  they  labored  to  con- 
sole Cortes  in  his  misfortune.  “Oh,  Malinche,  Malinche,'’ 
they  said,  “how  it  grieves  us  to  hear  of  your  losses  and  your 
sorrows.  Have  we  not  told  you  many  times,  that  you  should 
not  trust  in  those  Mexican  people?  But  now  the  thing  is 
done,  and  nothing  more  remains  at  present  but  to  refresh 
you  and  to  cure  you.”  The  noble  kindness  of  these  good 
allies  fell  like  a blessing  on  the  wounded,  way-worn 
Spaniards. 

In  such  circumstances  almost  any  other  commander  but 
Cortes  would  have  been  thoroughly  cast  down.  But  the 
elastic  spirit  of  this  modern  Hannibal  was  untouched,  and 
he  beheld  the  star  of  hope  shining  as  brightly  as  ever  on  his 
checkered  pathway.  AVhile  his  enemies,  and  even  many  of 
his  own  folloAvers,  considered  the  disasters  which  had  be- 
fallen him  as  fatal  to  the  progress  of  his  arms,  and  imagined 
that  nothing  now  remained  but  speedily  to  abandon  a coun- 
try which  he  had  invaded  with  unequal  force,  his  bold  and 
lofty  mind — as  eminent  for  perseverance  as  for  enterprise — 
was  still  bent  on  accomplishing  his  original  purpose  of  sub- 
jecting the  Mexican  empire  to  the  Crown  of  Castile,  and  of 
planting  the  Cross  on  the  pagan  towers  of  its  beautiful 
capital ! 

In  the  face  of  countless  obstacles,  his  genius  formed  in  a 
few  months  a great  offensive  and  defensive  alliance  against 
the  Mexicans.  He  wished  to  render  an  attack  on  that 
nation  not  only  a splendid  and  chivalrous  event,  but  an  enter- 
prise entirely  consistent  with  the  rules  of  that  prudence  into 
which  the  valor  of  Cortes  was  welded  as  the  blade  of  the 


* Tliii  waa  th«  name  the  Indians  gave  to  Cortes. 


EERJS'ANDO  CORTES. 


295 


sword  is  to  its  handle.  He  created  and  equipped  a new 
army,  and  with  wonderful  foresight  he  gave  orders  for 
brigantines  to  be  constructed  in  separate  pieces  at  Tlascala. 

On  the  day  after  Christmas,'  the  General  reviewed  his 
troops.  He  found  that  they  consisted  of  forty  horsemen 
and  five  hundred  and  fifty  foot  soldiers.  He  had  also  eight 
or  nine  cannon,  but  very  little  gunpowder.  He  made  a 
touching  and  eloquent  address,  reminding  his  veterans  that 
they  were  going  on  a war  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the 
Catholic  Faith,  and  their  native  land.  He  begged  them  to 
observe  certain  rules  which  he  laid  down  for  the  good  gov- 
ernment of  the  army,  one  of  which  was  that  no  man  should 
blaspheme  the  Holy  Name  of  God.  Two  days  after  this, 
the  gallant  band  of  Spaniards  set  out  on  the  march  for  the 
city  of  Mexico,  accompanied  by  10,000  Tlascalans. 

On  coming  near  the  capital,  Cortes  sent  a message  of  peace 
to  the  authorities.  He  assured  them  that  he  did  not  desire 
war,  although  he  had  much  cause  for  offense.  He  wished 
to  be  their  friend,  as  he  had  been  in  other  days.  “Let  the 
past  be  past,”  he  concluded,  “and  do  not  give  me  occasion 
to  destroy  your  lands  and  cities,  which  I should  much  re- 
gret.” This  peaceful  offer,  however,  led  to  no  result,  and 
he  resolved  to  besiege  the  city.  But  his  enemies  were  well 
prepared. 

Nor  was  Cortes  the  leader  to  begin  such  a dangerous  and 
difficult  enterprise  unprepared.  He  at  once  dispatched  the 
brave  Sandoval  to  Tlascala  for  the  materials  of  the  brigan- 
tines. The  men  appointed  to  carry  these  materials  were  8,000. 
Another  body  of  2, 000  was  to  furnish  a relief  for  the  bear- 
ers, and  to  carry  provisions.  The  whole  was  guarded  by  an 
escort  of  20,000  armed  men.  The  march  was  thus  arranged: 
In  front  came  eight  Spanish  horsemen  and  one  hundred 
Spanish  foot,  then  10,000  Tlascalans  formed  an  advance 
guard,  with  wings  thrown  out  to  the  right  and  the  left. 
The  center  was  taken  up  by  the  bearers  of  the  rigging  and 
cordage,  and  the  carriers  of  the  timber  and  iron- work.  The 
whole  line  of  march  was  closed  by  eight  more  Spanish  horse- 


» December  86,  1580. 


296 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


men,  a hundred  Spanish  foot,  and  10,000  Tlascalans,  under 
the  command  of  a noted  warrior  From  the  van-guard  to 
the  rear-guard  was  six  miles  in  length.  This  vast  proces- 
sion advanced  leisurely,  but  in  excellent  order;  and,  in  a 
few  days'  Cortes  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  materials  of 
a fleet  on  the  shores  of  the  lake  which  surrounded  the  city 
of  Mexico." 

Preparations  for  the  siege  were  now  pushed  on  vigorously 
The  brigantines  were  soon  completed,  and  the  day  for 
launching  them  arrived.  Cortes  resolved  that  so  auspicious 
an  event  should  be  celebrated  with  due  solemnity.  On  the 
28th  of  April  the  troops  were  drawn  up  under  arms.  Mass 
was  celebrated,  and  the  General,  together  with  every  man  in 
the  army,  went  to  confession,  and  devoutly  received  Holy 
Communion.  Prayers  were  offered  up  by  Father  Olmedo, 
and  a benediction  invoked  on  the  little  navy,  the  first — wor- 
thy of  the  name — ever  launched  on  American  waters.’  The 
signal  was  given  by  the  firing  of  a cannon;  and  as  the  ves- 
sels, one  after  another,  rode  forth  on  the  ample  bosom  of 
the  lake,  with  music  sounding,  and  the  royal  ensign  of  Cas- 
tile proudly  floating  from  their  masts,  a shout  of  admira- 
tion arose  from  the  countless  multitude  of  spectators,  which, 
mingled  with  the  roar  of  artillery  and  musketry  from  the 
vessels  and  the  shore.  To  the  simple  natives  it  was  a novel 
spectacle.  It  even  touched  the  stern  hearts  of  the  Conquer- 
ors with  a glow  of  rapture,  and  as  they  felt  that  Heaven  had 
blessed  their  undej'taking,  they  broke  forth  by  general  ac- 
cord into  the  noble  anthem  of  the  Te  Deum.* 

Cortes  formed  his  troops  into  three  divisions,  for  the  at- 


' Pour  days.  “ It  was  a marvelous  thing,”  exclaims  Cortes  in  his  letters,  “that  few  have  seen, 
or  even  heard  of — this  transportation  of  thirteen  vesseis  of  war  on  the  shoulders  of  men  for  nearly 
twenty  leagues  across  the  mountains ! ” 

^ It  was,  indeed,  a stupendous  achievement,  and  not  easily  matched  in  ancient  or  modem  story, 
one  which  only  a genius  like  that  of  Cortes  could  have  devised,  or  a daring  spirit  iike  his  have  e» 
successfully  executed.  Little  did  he  foresee,  when  he  ordered  the  destruction  of  the  fleet  which 
first  brought  him  to  the  country,  and  with  his  usual  forecast  commanded  the  presen-ation  of  the 
iron-work  and  rigging, — little  did  he  foresee  the  important  usee  for  which  they  were  preserved;  so 
important,  that  on  their  preservation  may  be  said  to  have  depended  the  successful  issue  of  kis 
great  enterprise. — Prescott. 

’ Father  Olmedo  blessed  the  vessels,  and  gave  each  its  name. — Rdbtrtson. 

< Prescott. 


HERNANDO  CORTM 


297 


tack  on  the  city  was  to  be  made  from  three  different  quar- 
ters. To  Alvarado  was  given  the  command  of  thirty  horse- 
men, eighteen  musketeers,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  men 
with  sword  and  buckler.  This  division  was  accompanied  by 
20,000  Tlascalan  warriors. 

Olid’s  division  consisted  of  thirty-three  horsemen,  eigh- 
teen musketeers,  and  one  hundred  and  sixty  swordsmen. 
A body  of  20,000  Indian  allies  accompanied  this  force. 

Sandoval  had  under  his  command  twenty-four  horsemen, 
seventeen  musketeers,  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  swords- 
men. Over  30,000  Indian  allies  supported  this  division.* 

About  three  hundred  men  were  left  to  man  the  brigantines 
— most  of  them  good  seamen.  Each  vessel  had  twenty -five 
men,  with  six  musketeers.  Cortes  took  command  of  the  fleet 
himself;  for,  as  he  afterwards  remarked,  “the  key  of  the 
whole  war  was  in  the  ships.” 

In  our  brief  sketch  a minute  description  of  this  historic 
siege  is  not  to  be  expected.  It  would  fill  a small  volume, 
for  its  many  incidents  by  flood  and  field  are  among  the  most 
terrible  and  romantic  on  record.  At  one  time  the  little  fleet 
is  attacked  by  500  canoes;  but  the  defeat  of  the  Mexicans 
on  the  water  was  swift  and  signal.  From  that  day  Cortes 
remained  master  of  the  lake. 

The  Mexicans  exhibited  desperate  valor.  Each  morning 
the  Spaniards  began  the  attack  anew.  But  week  after  week 
the  siege  continued.  On  land  and  water,  by  day  and  night, 
one  furious  conflict  succeeded  another.  Cortes,  on  one  oc- 
casion, stormed  the  city  with  his  whole  force,  but  was  re- 
pulsed with  heavy  loss,  and  came  near  being  captured,  as 
he  was  severely  wounded.  Six  Mexican  captains  suddenly 
seized  him,  and  were  hurrying  him  off,  when  two  of  his 
bravest  officers  rescued  the  G-eneral  at  the  cost  of  their  own 
lives.  The  barbarians  were  flushed  with  triumph,  and  at 
this  time  many  a poor  Spaniard  was  sacrificed  to  the  hideous 
god  of  war.’ 


> The  train  of  artillery  consisted  of  three  battering  cannon  and  fifteen  field-pieces.— i?o6<rfso»». 
’ As  Sandoval.  Alvarado,  and  the  other  chief  oflBcers  were  standing  together,  and  relating  what 
•ccnrred  to  each  of  them,  suddenly  the  sound  of  the  sacrificial  drum  was  heard,  accompanied  by 


298 


HERNANDO  C0RT£:S. 


TTie  Spaniards,  after  bravery  perhaps  unmatched  in  the 
annals  of  war,  finally  succeeded  in  penetrating  to  the  vast 
square  in  the  center  of  the  great  city,  and  there  made  a se- 
cure lodgment.  The  fighting  was  truly  awful,  and  ghastly 
were  the  sights  after  each  conflict.  On  one  occasion  12,000 
Mexicans  were  killed ; and  the  day  before  the  last  of  the 
siege,  it  is  stated  that  no  fewer  than  40,000  Mexicans  were 
slain,’  or  taken  prisoners. 

The  final  day  of  Mexico  had  come.  The  situation  of  the 
besieged  grew  so  desperate  that  the  new  monarch'  tried  to  es 
cape,  but  was  captured  by  the  Spaniards.  Cortes  received 
him  with  much  courtesy.  The  Mexican  ruler  probably  knew 
the  person  of  the  Conqueror,  for  he  broke  silence  by  saying- 

I have  done  all  that  I could  to  defend  myself  and  my  peo 
pie.  I am  now  reduced  to  this  state.  You  will  deal  with 
me,  Malinche,  as  you  please.”  “Fear  not,”  replied  the 
great  and  kind-hearted  General.  “You  shall  be  treated 
with  all  honor.  You  have  defended  your  capital  like  a 
brave  warrior.  A Spaniard  knows  how  to  respect  valor  even 
in  an  enemy.” 

The  Sovereign  being  captured,  all  further  opposition 
ceased.  The  whole  city  was  taken.  Sixty  thousand  Mexi- 
cans laid  down  their  arms.  This  memorable  day  in  the  an- 
nals of  American  history  was  August  the  13th,  1521.  The 


other  musical  instruments  of  a similar  dolorous  character.  From  the  camp  the  great  temple  was 
perfectly  visible,  and  when  the  Spaniards  looked  up  at  it  for  an  interpretation  of  these  melan- 
choly tones,  they  saw  their  companions  driven  by  blows  and  bufietings  up  to  the  place  of  sacri- 
fice. The  white-skinned  Christians  were  easily  to  be  distinguished  amidst  the  dusky  groups  that 
surrounded  them.  When  the  unhappy  men  about  to  be  sacrificed  had  reached  the  lofty  level  space 
on  which  these  abominations  were  wont  to  be  committed,  it  was  discovered  by  thr-ir  friends  and 
late  companions  that  plumes  of  feathers  were  put  upon  the  heads  of  many  of  them,  and  that  men, 
w*06e  movements  in  the  distance  appeared  like  that  of  winnowers,  made  the  captives  dance  be- 
fore the  image  of  HuitzUopocJiUi.  When  the  dance  was  concluded,  the  victims  were  placed  upon 
the  sacrificial  stones;  their  hearts  were  taken  out  and  offered  to  the  idols;  and  their  bodies  hurled 
down  the  steps  of  the  temple.  At  the  bottom  of  the  steps  stood  “ other  butchers,”  who  cut  off 
the  arms  and  legs  of  the  victims,  intending  to  eat  these  portions  of  their  enemies.  The  skin  of 
the  face,  with  the  beard,  was  preserved.  The  rest  of  the  body  was  thrown  to  the  uons,  tigers  ,and 
serpents.  “Let  the  curious  reader  consider,”  says  Bernal  Diaz,  “ what  pity  we  must  have  had 
for  these  our  companions,  and  how  we  said  to  one  another;  ‘Ohl  thanks  be  to  (Jod,  that  they 
did  not  carry  me  off  to  sacrifice  me  to-day.’  ” And  certainly,  no  army  ever  looked  upon  a more 
deplorable  sight. — Belps. 

• This  fearful  slaughter  was  chiefly  the  work  of  the  Indian  allies.  The  Spaniards  could  not 
prevent  it.  They  were  only  about  900  in  number,  while  the  allies  were  over  VO,(XO.-~Beipt. 

* Ouatemozin,  the  successor  of  Montezuma. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


299 


siege  lasted  seventy-five  days.  Its  fearful  results  cannot  be 
better  given  than  in  the  simple  words  of  an  eye-witness. 
“It  is  true,”  writes  Bernal  Diaz,  “and  I swear  Amen,  that 
all  the  lake  and  the  houses  and  the  baracans  were  full  of  the 
bodies  and  heads  of  dead  men,  so  that  I do  not  know  how 
I may  describe  it.  For  in  the  streets  and  in  the  very  courts 
there  were  no  other  things,  and  we  could  not  walk  except 
amongst  the  bodies  and  heads  of  slain  Indians.  I have  read 
of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem;  but  whether  there  was 
such  a mortality  in  that  I do  not  know.’” 

Thus  fell  the  great  city  of  Mexico. 

It  was,  in  truth,  a time  for  thanksgiving.  A procession 
of  the  whole  army  was  formed,  with  Father  Olmedo  at  its 
head.  The  soiled  and  tattered  banners  of  Castile,  which 
had  waved  over  many  a field  of  battle,  now  threw  their 
shadows  on  the  peaceful  array  of  the  soldiery,  as  they  slowly 
moved  along,  rehearsing  the  Litany,  and  displaying  the 
image  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  and  the  blessed  symbol  of  man’s 
Redemption.  The  Reverend  Father  pronounced  a discourse, 
in  which  he  briefly  reminded  the  troops  of  their  great  cause 
of  thankfulness  to  Heaven,  and  ended  by  calling  on  them 
to  “conduct  themselves  like  Catholic  Christians,  that  so 
God  might  continue  to  favor  them.”  Cortes  and  his  chief 
officers  received  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  the  services 
concluded  with  a solemn  thanksgiving  to  the  God  of  battles, 
who  had  enabled  them  to  carry  the  banner  of  the  Cross 
triumphant  over  this  barbaric  empire.’ 


> “ I have  conversed, ’’  says  the  historian  Oviedo,  “ with  many  hidalgos  and  other  persons,  and 
have  heard  them  say  that  the  nnml^r  of  the  dead  was  incalculable— greater  than  at  Jenualem,  m 
described  by  Josephus.”— <l4  Uu  Ind.,  quoted  by  PretmU. 

■ PrMCott. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

AFTER  CAREER  OF  THE  CONQUEROR  OF  MEXICO. 

Is  appointed  Governor  of  Mexico — The  new  capital— The 
conversion  of  the  Indians— Arrival  of  twelve  Francis 
can  Missionaries — Activity  of  Cortes—  Desperate  jour- 
ney  to  Honduras — Calumny— Cortes  goes  to  Spain— 
His  reception — Honors— Return  to  Mexico— New  diffi 
cutties  and  enterprises— Discovery  of  California—  To 
Spain  once  more — The  call  of  death— His  pious  end— 
Character  of  Cortes. 

We  can  merely  glance  at  the  subsequent  career  of  the 
illustrious  Conqueror  of  Mexico.  In  Spain  he  had  bitter 
enemies.  Among  these  were  Bishop  Fonseca,  who  had 
dogged  Columbus  to  the  very  tomb.  But  in  spite  of  every 
opposition,  the  acts  of  Cortes  were  confirmed  in  their  full 
extent ; and  his  commisssion  as  Captain-General  and  Chief 
J ustice  of  Mexico  was  signed  by  the  Emperor  Charles  V.  in 
October,  1522. 

In  less  than  four  years  from  the  destruction  of  Mexico,  a 
new  city  had  risen  on  its  ruins,  which,  if  inferior  to  the  an- 
cient capital  in  extent,  surpassed  it  in  magnificence  and 
strength.  Great  alterations,  of  course,  took  place  in  the 
fashion  of  the  architecture.  On  the  site  of  the  famous 
Temple  of  the  god  of  war  arose  the  stately  Cathedral ; and, 
as  if  to  complete  the  triumphs  of  the  Cross,  the  foundations 
were  laid  with  the  broken  images  of  the  Mexican  idols.' 

The  conversion  of  the  natives  was  an  object  of  which 
Cortes  never  lost  sight.  In  one  of  his  reports  to  the  Emperor, 
dated  1524,* *  he  says  that,  '‘as  many  times  as  I have  written 


> Prescott. 

* About  this  time  his  wife,  DoSa  Catalina  Juarez,  came  to  Mexico.  On  landing  she  was  escorted 
by  Sandoval  to  the  capital,  where  she  was  kindly  received  hy  her  husband,  and  all  the  respect 
paid  to  her  which  she  was  entitled  to  hy  her  elevated  rank.  But  the  climate  of  the  table  land  was 
»ot  suited  to  her  constitution,  and  she  died — three  months  after  her  arrival. — PietcoU. 


300 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


301 


to  your  Sacred  Majesty,  I have  told  yonr  Highness  of  the 
readiness  which  there  is  in  some  of  the  natives  to  receive  our 
Holy  Catholic  Faith,  and  become  Christians.  And  I have 
sent  to  supplicate  your  Imperial  Majesty  that  you  would 
have  the  goodness  to  provide  for  that  end  religious  persons 
of  good  life  and  example.” 

In  obedience  to  these  suggestions,  twelve  Franciscan 
Fathers  embarked  for  Mexico,  which  they  reached  early  in 
1524.  The  presence  of  these  men  of  God  in  the  country  was 
greeted  with  general  rejoicing  The  inhabitants  of  the  towns 
through  which  they  passed  came  out  in  a body  to  welcome 
them-  processions  were  formed  of  the  natives,  bearing  wax 
tapers  in  their  hands,  and  the  bells  of  the  churches  rang  out 
a joyous  peal  in  honor  of  their  arrival  On  entering  the 
capital  they  were  met  by  a brilliant  cavalcade  of  the  prin- 
cipal cavaliers  and  citizens,  with  Cortes  at  their  head.  The 
General,  dismounting,  and  bending  one  knee  to  the  ground, 
kissed  the  robes  of  Father  Martin  of  Valencia,  the  Superior 
of  this  band  of  apostles.  The  natives  were  filled  wuth  as- 
tonishment at  the  Viceroy’s  profound  reverence  towards 
men  whose  naked  feet  and  tattered  garments  gave  them  the 
aspect  of  mendicants,  and  henceforth  regarded  them  as 
beings  of  a superior  nature.  The  Indian  chronicler  of  Tlas- 
cala  does  not  conceal  his  admiration  at  this  edifying  conde- 
scension of  Cortes,  which  he  pronounces  “one  of  the  most 
heroic  acts  of  his  life.’” 

Cortes  was  a man  of  marvelous  activity.  He  conquered 
Mexico,  rebuilt  and  governed  it.  At  the  same  time,  he  em- 
ployed skillful  persons  to  search  for  mines  in  different  parts 
of  the  country,  and  opened  some  which  were  found  to  be 
richer  than  any  which  the  Spaniards  had  hitherto  discovered 


* Prescott. 

The  missionaries  lost  no  time  in  the  good  work  of  conversion.  They  began  their  preaching 
through  interpreters,  until  they  had  acquired  a competent  knowledge  of  the  language  themselves. 
They  opened  schools  and  founded  colleges,  in  which  the  native  youth  were  instructed  in  profane 
as  well  as  Christian  learning  The  ardor  of  the  Indian  neophyte  emulated  that  of  his  teacher. 
In  a few  years  every  vestige  of  the  primitive  teocallu  was  effaced  from  the  land. — "History  of  tM 
Conquest  of  Mexico  ' Vol.  III. 

Father  Toribio  states  that  twenty  years  after  the  Conquest  there  were  9,000,000  of  Catholic  Iiu 
dians  in  the  empire. — Hist,  de  las  Indias,  quoted  by  Prescott. 


302 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


in  the  New  World.  He  detached  his  principal  officers  into 
the  remote  provinces,  and  encouraged  them  to  settle  there 
by  bestowing  upon  them  large  tracts  of  land.  Nor  was  this 
all.  He  sent  out  many  expeditions  of  settlement  and  dis- 
covery Of  these  we  can  notice  but  one. 

Early  in  1524,  the  Conqueror  dispatched  Olid — an  officer 
who  had  greatly  distinguished  himself  at  the  siege  of  Mex 
ico — to  make  a settlement  in  Honduras.  The  lieutenant, 
however,  proved  unfaithful  to  his  trust,  and  gave  undeni- 
able signs  of  setting  up  an  independent  government  for  him- 
self. At  such  conduct,  Cortes  was  extremely  indignant. 
He  regarded  it  as  a dangerous  example,  calling  for  swift  and 
severe  punishment,  and  resolved  to  take  the  matter  into  his 
own  hands  The  journey  was  long  and  most  perilous.  Ac- 
cording to  Father  Gomara,  he  marched  three  thousand 
miles,  through  a country  abounding  in  swamps,  thick  forests, 
rugged  mountains,  deep  rivers,  thinly  inhabited,  and  culti- 
vated only  in  a few  places.  What  himself  and  his  force 
suffered  from  famine,  from  the  hostility  of  the  Indians, 
from  the  deadly  climate,  and  from  countless  and  unheard-of 
hardships,  is,  perhaps,  unparalleled,  even  in  the  early  his- 
tory of  America.' 

When  Cortes  reached  the  settlement,  he  was  informed  of 
the  death  of  Olid,  and  of  the  re-establishment  of  his  own  au- 
thority. He  was,  therefore,  cordially  welcomed  by  his  coun- 
trymen, who  were  greatly  astonished,  says  Bernal  Diaz,  “at 
the  presence  among  them  of  the  General  so  renowned 
throughout  these  countries.”  In  this  dreadful  service,  he 
spent  over  two  years;  and  though  it  was  not  distinguished 

• Among  those  who  accompanied  the  expedition  to  Jloni^nras  was  the  hardy  Captain  Diaz.  He 
did  not  wish  to  go.  ‘ But  Cortes  commanded  it,”  he  writes,  “ and  we  dared  not  say  no.” 

The  soldier-historian,  when  describing  the  construction  »f  a certain  bridge  across  a river,  adds 
lhat  the  army  had  nothing  to  eat  for  three  days  but  grass,  and  a root  called  quecuenque,  which 
bnmed  their  lips  and  tongues. 

In  this  extremity  the  Mexican  chiefs  turned  cannibals.  They  seized  upon  the  natives  where 
they  could  find  them  and  baking  theii  bodies  between  heated  stones,  devoured  them.  The  Gen- 
erai  immediately  put  a stoo  to  this  abominable  practice,  when  the  facts  came  to  his  knowledge. 

The  following  shows  the  desperate  circumstances  of  all.  “ Oh,  Sefior  brother  Bernal  Diaz.” 
said  Cort4s,  “ if  you  have  left  any  of  the  food  secreted  by  the  road,  for  the  love  of  me,  give  me 
tome  of  it.  I am  sure  you  mnst  have  kept  some  for  yourself  and  your  friend  Sandoval.”  Sando- 
▼al,  who  was  with  Cortes,  exclaimed:  "I  swear  I have  not  even  a handful  of  maize  to  roast  for 
my  supper!  "—Helpt. 


HERNANDO  CORTHS 


303 


by  any  splendid  event,  the  Conqueror  exhibited  during  the 
course  of  it  more  patience,  more  perseverance,  greater  per- 
sonal courage,  and  more  wonderful  fortitude  of  mind,  than 
at  any  other  period  of  his  romantic  and  remarkable  career. 

In  our  day  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  the  character  of  a 
Castilian  cavalier  of  the  sixteenth  century,  a true  counter- 
part of  which  it  would  not  have  been  easy  to  find  in  any 
other  nation,  even  at  that  time — or  anywhere,  indeed,  save 
in  the  tales  of  chivalry.  The  mere  excitement  of  exploring 
the  strange  and  the  unknown  was  a sufficient  compensation 
to  the  Spanish  adventurer  for  all  his  toils  and  trials.  He 
was  a man  full  of  faith,  and  fearless  of  danger.  It  seems, 
in  truth,  to  have  been  ordered  by  Providence  that  such  a 
race  of  men  should  exist  contemporaneously  with  the  dis- 
covery of  the  New  World,  that  those  regions  should  be 
brought  to  light  which  were  beset  with  dangers  and  difficul- 
ties so  appalling,  as  might  have  tended  to  overawe  and  to 
discourage  the  ordinary  spirit  of  adventure.' 

While  the  genius  of  Cortes  was  achieving  prodigies  in 
America,  calumny  after  calumny  reached  Spain  concerning 
his  aims  and  objects.  Malicious  and  narrow-minded  officials 
in  Mexico  wrote  to  the  home  government,  representing  him 
as  a bold,  ambitious  tyrant.  Even  the  suspicions  of 
Charles  Y.  were  finally  aroused;  and  the  Emperor,  after 
some  hesitation,  ordered  a solemn  inquiry  to  be  made  into 
the  conduct  of  the  Conqueror. 

The  loyal,  lofty  mind  of  Cortes  was  deeply  wounded  at 
this  unexpected  return  for  services  which  far  exceeded  all 
that  any  subject  of  Spain  had  ever  rendered  to  his  sovereign. 
He  resolved  not  to  expose  himself  to  the  indignity  of  a trial 
in  that  country  which  had  been  the  scene  of  his  triumphs;  and 
vrithout  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Commission  of  Judges, 
he  repaired  directly  to  Castile,  and  committed  himself  and 
his  cause  to  the  justice  and  generosity  of  the  Emperor.’ 

‘ Prescott. 

* On  his  arrival  at  Villa  Rica  he  received  the  painful  tidings  of  the  death  of  his  father,  Dob 
Martin  Cortes,  whom  he  had  hoped  so  soon  to  embrace  after  his  long  and  eventful  absence.  Hav- 
ing celebrated  his  obsequies  with  every  mark  of  filial  respeet,  he  made  preparations  for  his  sp«* *#y 
departure.— iVescott. 


304 


HERNANDO  CORT^!S. 


The  General  appeared  in  his  native  country  with  a splen- 
dor that  became  the  conqueror  of  a mighty  empire.  He 
brought  with  him  a large  part  of  his  wealth,  many  jewels 
and  ornaments  of  great  value,  several  curious  productions 
of  the  New  World,  and  was  accompanied  by  some  Mexicans 
of  high  rank,  as  well  as  by  the  faithful  Sandoval  and  other 
officers.  “In  fine,”  writes  the  historian  Herrara,  “he  came 
in  all  the  state  of  a great  lord.  * 

The  hero’s  arrival  in  Spain  at  once  removed  every  sus- 
picion and  fear  that  had  been  entertained  with  respect  to  his 
intentions.  The  Emperor  received  him  as  one  whom  con- 
sciousness of  his  own  innocence  had  brought  into  the  pres- 
ence of  his  master,  and  who  was  entitled  by  his  distinguished 
services  to  the  highest  marks  of  respect  and  distinction.  The 
order  of  St.  Jago,  the  title  of  Marquis  del  Valle,'  and  the 
grant  of  an  ample  territory  in  Mexico  were  successively  be- 
stowed upon  him.  Charles,  indeed,  took  frequent  oppor- 
tunity to  show  the  confidence  which  he  now  reposed  in 
Cortes.  On  all  public  occasions  he  appeared  with  him  by 
his  side ; and  once,  when  the  General  lay  ill  of  a fever,  the 
Emperor  paid  him  a visit  in  person,  and  remained  for  some 
time  in  the  apartment  of  the  invalid. ' 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1530,  Cortes  embarked  for  Mexico. 
He  was  accompanied  by  the  Marchioness,*  his  wife,  together 

> He  entered  the  little  port  of  Palos  in  May,  1528— the  same  spot  where  Columbus  had  landed 
flve-and-thirty  years  before,  on  his  return  from  the  discovery  of  the  Western  World.  From  Palos  he 
soon  proceeded  to  the  Convent  of  La  Rabida,  within  the  hospitable  walls  of  which  Columbus  had 
found  shelter.  An  interesting  circumstance  is  mentioned  by  historians,  connected  with  his  short 
stay  in  Palos.  Francis  Pizarro,  the  Conqueror  of  Peru,  had  arrived  there,  having  come  to  Spain 
to  solicit  aid  for  his  great  enterprise.  He  was  then  in  the  commencement  of  his  brilliant  career, 
as  Cortes  might  be  said  to  be  at  the  close  of  his.  He  was  an  old  acquaintance,  and  a kinsman, 
as  is  affirmed,  of  the  General,  whose  mother  was  a Pizarro.  The  meeting  of  these  two  extra- 
ordinary men,  the  Conquerors  of  the  Worth  and  of  the  South  in  the  New  World,  as  they  set  foot, 
after  their  eventful  absence,  on  the  shores  of  their  native  land,  and  that,  too,  on  the  spot  conse- 
crated by  the  presence  of  Columbus,  has  something  in  it  striking  to  the  imagination.— FVescoW. 

While  taking  some  repose  and  perform  n r his  devotions  at  the  Convent  of  La  Rabida,  an  event 
occurred  which  greatly  saddened  Cortes.  It  was  the  death  of  the  brave,  trusty,  and  still  youthful 
Sandoval.  He  died  like  a true  Catholic  soldier,  breathing  his  last  in  the  arms  of  his  commander. 
He  was  but  thirty-one  years  of  age,  and  was  buried  in  the  convent  cemetery.  “ He  was  in  many 
respects,”  says  the  American  historian  of  the  Conquest,  “ the  most  eminent  of  the  great  captains 
formed  under  the  eye  of  Cortes.” 

’ “ Marquis  of  the  Valley  of  Oxaca.’ 

• Prescott. 

‘During  the  General’s  stay  in  Spain,  he  sought  the  hand  of  Dofia  Juana  de  Zufiiga,  daughter 
sf  the  Count  de  Aguilar,  and  she  became  his  second  wife. 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


305 


with  his  aged  mother,  who  had  the  good  fortune  to  live  to 
see  her  son’ s elevation,  and  by  a magnificent  retinue  of  pages 
and  attendants,  such  as  belonged  to  the  household  of  a 
powerful  noble.  How  different  from  the  forlorn  condition 
in  which,  twenty- six  years  before,  he  had  been  cast  loose,  as 
a mid  adventurer,  to  seek  his  bread  upon  the  waters! ' 

Though  dignified  with  new  titles,  Cortes  returned  to 
Mexico  with  diminished  authority.  The  military  depart- 
ment, and  powers  to  attempt  new  discoveries,  were,  indeed, 
left  in  his  hands ; but  the  supreme  direction  of  civil  affairs 
was  placed  in  a board  called  “The  Audience  of  New  Spain.” 
This  division  of  power  proved  the  source  of  perpetual  dis- 
sension. It  imbittered  the  life  of  the  Conqueror,  and 
thwarted  all  his  vast  enterprises. 

He  had  now  no  opportunity  to  display  his  wonderful  ac- 
tivity but  in  attempting  new  discoveries ; and  for  this  pur- 
pose he  formed  various  schemes,  all  of  which  bear  the 
impress  of  a genius  that  delighted  in  what  was  bold  and 
splendid.  He  was  always  busy  in  great  enterprises.  He 
early  entertained  tlie  idea,  that  either  by  steering  through 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  along  the  eastern  coast  of  North  Amer- 
ica, some  strait  would  be  found  that  communicated  with 
the  Pacific;  or  that  by  examining  the  isthmus  of  Darien, 
some  passage  wmuld  be  discovered  connecting  the  two  great 
oceans.  But  he  was  disappointed  in  his  expectations  with 
respect  to  both,  and  he  now  confined  his  views  to  such 
voyages  of  discovery  as  he  could  make  from  the  Mexican 
ports  on  the  Pacific.  There  he  fitted  out,  one  after  another, 
several  small  squadrons,  which  were  either  lost,  or  returned 
without  making  any  discovery  of  importance. 

The  General  grew  weary  of  intrusting  the  conduct  of  such 
enterprises  to  others,  and  took  the  command  of  a new  arma- 
ment in  person.  He  sailed  towards  the  north.  After  en- 
during incredible  hardships,  and  encountering  countless 
dangers,  he  discovered  the  peninsula  of  California,  and  ex- 
plored the  greater  part  of  the  gulf  which  separates  it  from 
Mexico.  The  discovery  of  a country  of  such  extent  would 


' Prescott. 


306 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


have  reflected  credit  on  a common  adventurer ; but  it  could 
add  little  to  the  bright  name  of  Cortes,  and  was  far  from 
satisfying  the  hopes  which  he  had  formed.* 

The  Conqueror  continued  to  meet  ill-success  and  bitter 
opposition — two  things  to  which  he  had  not  been  accus- 
tomed. And  disgusted  at  having  to  contest  with  adversa- 
ries to  whom  he  considered  it  a disgrace  to  be  opposed,  he 
once  more  sought  for  redress  in  his  native  Spain.  This  was  in 
1640.  But  his  reception  was  very  different  from  that  which 
gratitude,  and  even  decency,  should  have  secured.  The 
merit  of  his  ancient  achievements  was  already,  in  some 
measure,  forgotten.  No  service  of  importance  was  now  ex- 
pected from  a man  in  declining  years,  and  one  who  began  to 
be  unfortunate.  The  Emperor  behaved  to  him  with  cold 
civility;  and  his  ministers  treated  the  illustrious  General 
sometimes  with  neglect,  sometimes  with  insolence.  In  short, 
his  grievances  received  no  redress.  His  claims  were  urged 
without  success.  Like  Columbus,  he  found  that  it  was  just 
possible  to  deserve  too  much! 

The  great  man  was  at  Seville  when  the  warning  of  death 
came.  In  order  to  avoid  the  presence  of  visitors,  he  retired 
to  the  neighboring  village  of  Castileja,  attended  by  his  son, 
who  watched  over  his  dying  parent  with  tender  solicitude. 
Bernal  Diaz  says  he  sought  this  quiet  place  for  the  purpose 
of  making  his  will,  and  preparing  his  soul  for  its  great  de- 
parture. “And  when  he  had  settled  his  worldly  affairs, 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  pleased  to  take  him  from  this 
troublesome  world.”  Like  a Christian  who  had  “fought 
the  good  fight,”  his  end  was  calm  and  peaceful.  He  made 
a last  humble  confession,  and  devoutly  received  Holy  Com- 


■ Cortes  discovered  California,  but  he  left  that  country,  little  conjecturing  the  riches  which  he 
had  probably  trodden  under  foot  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  his  second  wife  wrote  him  a most 
touching  letter,  begging  him  to  return  to  his  Marquieate  in  Mexico,  to  think  of  his  boys  and 
girls,  and  no  longer  to  tempt  fortune,  but  to  content  himself  with  the  heroic  actions  he  had  al- 
ready performed,  and  with  his  world-wide  fame. — Helps. 

Though  it  may  seem  singular,  Cortes  was  far  from  wealthy.  In  a letter  dated  at  Mexico,  1538. 
he  writes;  “ I have  enough  to  do  to  maintain  myself  in  a village  where  I have  my  wife,  without 
daring  to  reside  in  this  city,  or  to  come  into  it.  as  I have  not  the  means  to  live  in  it;  and  if  some- 
times I come,  because  I cannot  help  doing  so,  and  remain  in  it  a month,  I am  obliged  to  fast  for 
a year.” 

The  Conqueror  of  the  Mexican  empire  had  not  means  to  live  in  its  capital. 


HERNANDO  GORTM. 


307 


munion;  and  thus  passed  away  the  Conqueror  of  Mexico 
and  Discoverer  of  California,  on  the  2d  of  December,  1547, 
at  the  age  of  sixty-two  years.' 

Of  all  the  noble  band  of  adventurous  cavaliers  w'hom 
Spain,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  sent  forth  on  the  career  of 
discovery  and  conquest,  there  was  none  more  deeply  filled 
with  the  spirit  of  romantic  enterprise  than  Hernando  Cortes. 
Dangers  and  difficulties,  instead  of  deterring,  seemed  to  have 
a charm  in  his  eyes.  They  were  necessary  to  rouse  him  to 
a full  consciousness  of  his  powers.  He  grappled  with  them 
at  the  outset,  and  seemed,  if  we  may  so  express  it,  to  take 
his  enterprises  by  the  most  difficult  side."  He  was  certainly 
a great  general,  if  that  man  be  one  who  performs  great 
achievements  with  the  resources  which  his  own  genius  has 
created.  There  is  probably  no  instance  in  history  where  so 
vast  an  enterprise  has  been  achieved  by  means  apparently 
so  inadequate." 

We  know  of  no  exact  parallel  to  his  character,  but  he 
possessed  traits  in  common  with  many  great  generals  of 
antiquity.  He  moved  and  conquered  with  the  electric  rapid- 
ity of  Pyrrhus,  but  he  was  more  successful.  He  subdued  a 
more  warlike  empire  than  Alexander,  but  unlike  the  Creek 
conquerer,  his  end  was  not  shameful.  He  had  the  courage, 


* His  body  was  first  buried  at  Seville,  in  the  chapel  of  the  monastery  of  San  Isioro.  In  1562. 
it  was  removed,  by  order  of  his  son,  to  Mexico,  where  iu  th'v  monastery  at  Jt.  I'’rancis,  Tezcn^o, 
It  was  laid  by  the  side  of  a daughter  and  ot  his  mother.  In  ,329  the  remains  were  again  re 
moved — this  time  to  the  church  of  St.  Francis,  in  the  capital.  The  ceremony  was  conducted  with 
the  pomp  suited  to  the  occasion.  A military  and  religions  procession  was  formed,  with  the 
Archbishop  of  Mexico  at  its  head.  Nor  were  his  bones  permitted  to  rest  undisturbed.  In  1794 
they  were  removed  to  the  Hospital  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth.  It  was  a more  fitting  place,  since 
it  was  the  same  institution  which,  under  the  name  of  “Our  Lady  of  the  Conception,”  had  been 
founded  and  endowed  by  Cortes,  and  which,  with  a fate  not  too  frequent  in  similar  charities,  has 
Deen  administered  to  this  day  on  the  noble  principles  of  its  foundation.— iYescoK. 

See  “ History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico,”  Vol.  XU.  p.  385. 

’ “Once  he  had  landed  in  Mexico,”  writes  Archbishop  Spalding,  “ and  conceived  the  idea  of 
conquering  the  empire,  he  burned  his  fleet;  thus  cutting  off  all  hope  of  retreat,  and  leaving  his  men 
no  alternative  but  to  conquer  or  to  die.  He  then  buckled  on  his  good  sword,  and  with  his  httle  army 
followed  fearlessly  the  banner  of  the  Cross,  which  he  had  resolved  to  plant  on  the  loftiest  pin- 
nacle of  the  city  of  Montezuma.  On,  on  with  the  battie-cry  of  God  atid  San  Jaqo!  No  dangers 
appall — no  difficulties  discourage  him.  Labor  and  ton,  and  hardships  and  reverses  are  his  daily 
bread.  His  soul  rises  with  obstacles,  as  the  ship  rises  with  the  waves.  A child  of  fortune,  he 
seems  to  rise  superior  to  fortune;  or  rather,  his  genius  transmutes  misfortunes  into  brilliant 
success.” 


’ Prescott. 


308 


HERNANDO  CORTHS. 


skill,  and  indomitable  energy  of  Scipio,  and  like  him  ae 
destroyed  a capital ; but  unlike  Scipio,  he  caused  this  capi- 
tal to  rise  again  from  its  ashes  more  splendid  than  ever. 
He  conquered  like  Csesar,  and  like  him,  “he  wrote  his  own 
commentaries,”  almost  amid  the  stirring  scenes  of  the  bat- 
tle-field itself.  He  had  the  iron  nerve  and  the  fertile  inven- 
tion of  Hannibal,  and  the  same  unconquerable  energy  in 
encountering  difiiculties;  but  he  was  much  more  fortunate 
than  Hannibal.^ 

“He  preferred,”  writes  good  old  Bernal  Diaz,  “ to  be  called 
Cortes  by  us,  to  being  called  by  any  title;  and  with  good  rea- 
son, for  the  name  of  Cortes  is  as  famous  in  our  day  as  was 
that  of  Csesar  among  the  Romans,  or  of  Hannibal  among  the 
Carthaginians.” 

Nor  was  the  Conqueror  of  Mexico  simply  an  illustrious 
commander.  He  was  a sincerely  religious  man.  He  was  a 
great  statesman.  He  was  a consummate  man  of  business. 
He  was  an  eminent  discoverer.  These  are  qualities  rarely, 
if  ever,  found  in  the  same  person. 

Were  we  to  overlook  the  religious  aspect  of  the  Con- 
quest, it  would  be  utterly  impossible  to  understand  or 
rightly  appreciate  its  character.'  The  spread  of  the  true 
Faith  was,  in  fact,  its  great  end  and  aim,  its  very  life  and 
soul.  Cortes  felt  that  he  had  a high  mission  to  accomplish 
as  a soldier  of  the  Cross.  He  felt  that  he  was  engaged  in  a 
holy  crusade.  He  felt  that  he  could  not  serve  Heaven  bet- 
ter than  by  planting  the  blessed  sign  of  man’s  Redemption 
on  the  blood-stained  towers  of  pagan  Mexico ! ' 

‘ Spalding. 

’ There  may  be  those  who  think  that  the  Conquest  of  Mexico  was,  perhaps,  not  justifiable. 
Here  we  have  no  space  to  discuss  the  matter.  Ths  learned  Archbishop  Spalding  in  his  re\iew  of 
Prescott’s  asks;  “Was  the  Conquest  justifiable  r”  and  answers;  “If  ever  a conquest 

was  justifiable,  that  of  Mexico  by  the  Spaniards  was  so.”  We  refer  the  reader  to  his  able  argu- 
ment on  this  subject.  See  “ Miscellanea,”  Vol.  I.  p.  263. 

5 Speaking  of  the  new  career  of  discovery  and  conquest  opened  to  European  nations  by  the 
genius  of  Columbus,  the  historian  Prescott  truly  says;  “Other  nations  entered  on  it  also,  but 
with  different  motives.  The  French  sent  forth  their  missionaries  to  take  up  their  dwelling 
amonv  the  heathen,  who,  in  the  good  work  of  winning  souls  to  Paradise,  were  content  to  wear- 
nay,  sometimes  seemed  to  court— the  crown  of  martyrdom.  The  Dutch,  too,  had  their  mission, 
but  it  was  one  of  worldly  lucre,  and  they  found  a recompense  for  toil  and  suffering  in  their  gain- 
ful traffic  with  the  natives,  while  our  Puritan  fathers,  with  true  Anglo-Saxon  spirit,  left  their 
pleasant  homes  across  the  waters,  and  pitched  their  tents  in  the  how  ling  wilderness,  that  the.v 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


309 


His  noble  kindness  and  religious  spirit  shone  out  in  the 
very  last  act  of  his  life.  By  a clause  in  his  will,  he  ap- 
plied the  revenues  of  his  estates,  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  to 
establish  and  permanently  endow  three  public  institutions 
of  charity — a hospital  dedicated  to  the  Immacnlate  Concep- 
tion, a convent  for  nuns,  and  a college  for  the  education  of 
missionaries  to  preach  the  Gospel  among  the  Indians.  He 
also  appropriated  a sum  for  the  celebration  of  two  thousand 
Masses,  for  the  eternal  repose  of  the  souls  of  those  who  had 
fought  with  him  in  the  campaigns  of  Mexico. 

We  conclude  by  a few  pen-pictures  from  the  hand  of  a com- 
panion. “His  whole  appearance,”  says  the  veteran  Bernal 
Diaz,  “in  his  discourse,  his  table,  his  dress,  in  everything,  in 
short,  he  had  the  air  of  a great  lord.  His  clothes  were  in 
the  fashion  of  the  time.  He  set  little  value  on  silk,  dam- 
ask. or  velvet,  but  dressed  plainly  and  exceedingly  neat; 
nor  did  he  wear  massy  chains  of  gold,  but  simply  a fine 
one  of  exquisite  workmanship,  from  which  was  suspended  a 
jewel  having  the  figure  of  our  Blessed  Lady  and  her  pre- 
cious Son,  with  a Latin  motto  cut  upon  it. 

“He  was  acquainted  wuth  Latin,  and,  as  I have  under- 
stood, was  made  Bachelor  of  Laws;  and  when  he  conversed 
with  learned  men  who  addressed  him  in  Latin,  he  answered 
them  in  the  same  language.  He  was  also  something  of  a 
poet.  His  conversation  was  agreeable,  and  he  had  a pleas- 
ant elocution.  In  his  attendance  on  the  services  of  the 
Church  he  was  most  punctual,  devout  in  his  manner,  and 
charitable  to  the  poor. 

“When  he  swore,  he  used  to  say.  On  my  conscience-,  and 
when  he  was  vexed  with  anyone,  Evil  hetide  you.  With  his 
men  he  was  very  patient;  and  they  were  sometimes  imperti- 

might  enjoy  the  sweets  of  civil  and  religious  freedom.  But  the  Spaniard  came  over  to  the  New 
World  in  the  true  spirit  of  a knight-errant,  courting  adventure,  however  perilous,  wooing 
danger,  as  it  would  seem,  for  its  own  sake.  With  sword  and  lance,  he  was  ever  ready  to  do 
battle  for  the  Faith;  and,  as  he  raised  his  old  war-cry  of  St.  Jago.  he  fancied  himself  fighting 
under  the  banner  of  the  military  apostle,  and  felt  his  arm  a match  for  more  than  a hundred  infidels'. 
It  was  the  expiring  age  of  chivalry;  and  Spain,  romantic  Spain,  was  the  land  where  its  light 
lingered  longest  above  the  horizon,” — “ HisU/ry  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico." 

This,  from  a Protestant  pen,  is  a well-merited  tribute  to  the  brave  old  Catholic  pioneers  of 
America, 


310 


HERNANDO  CORTES. 


nent  and  even  insolent  When  very  angry,  the  veins  in  his 
throat  and  forehead  would  swell,  but  he  uttered  no  re- 
proaches against  either  officer  or  soldier. 

“ He  was  affable  with  his  followers,  especially  with  those 
who  came  over  with  him  from  Cuba.  In  his  campaigns  he 
paid  strict  attention  to  discipline,  frequently  going  the 
rounds  himself  during  the  night,  and  seeing  that  the  sentinels 
did  their  duty.  He  entered  the  quarters  of  his  soldiers 
without  ceremony,  and  chided  those  whom  he  found  with- 
out their  arms  and  accoutrements,  saying.  It  was  a had 
sheep  that  could  not  carry  its  own  wool. 

“On  the  expedition  to  Honduras  he  acquired  the  habit 
of  sleeping  after  his  meals,  feeling  unwell  if  he  omitted  it; 
and,  however  sultry  or  stormy  the  weather,  he  caused  a car- 
pet or  his  cloak  to  be  thrown  under  a tree,  and  slept  soundly 
for  some  time. 

‘ ‘ He  was  frank  and  exceedingly  liberal  in  his  disposition, 

' until  the  last  few  years  of  his  life,  when  he  was  accused  of 
parsimony  But  we  should  consider  that  his  funds  were 
employed  on  great  and  costly  enterprises,  and  that  none  of 
these,  after  the  Conquest,  neither  his  expedition  to  Hon- 
duras nor  his  voyage  to  California,  were  crowned  with 
success. 

‘It  was  perhaps  intended  that  he  should  receive  his  re- 
compense in  a better  world ; and  I fully  believe  it ; for  he 
was  a good  cavalier,  most  true  in  his  devotions  to  the  Virgin, 
to  the  Apostle  St.  Peter,  and  to  all  the  other  Saints.”' 

> ‘ Historia  de  la  Conqniat*;'*  Preecott’a  translation,  in  luB“Hiitor7  of  tbe  Oonfneet 
Mexico.” 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA, 

THE  FIRST  AMERICAN  SAINT.' 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  CHILDHOOD  OF  AMERICA’S  FIRST  SAINT. 

Birth  of  St.  Rose— How  she  got  the  name  of  Rose— Takes 
St.  Catharine  of  Sienna  as  her  model — Her  xow  at  Jive 
years  of  age — Her  heroic  obedience — Her  spirit  of  pen- 
ance— Rose's  devotion  to  her  father  and  mother. 

"First  floweret  of  the  desert  wild, 

Whose  leaves  the  sweets  of  grace  exhale. 

We  greet  thee,  Lima’s  sainted  child — 

Rose  of  America — all  hail!” 

— Father  Faber. 

Rose  Florez,  the  holy  and  renowned  subject  of  our  sketch, 
was  born  at  Lima,  the  capital  of  Peru,  in  South  America, 
on  the  20th  day  of  April,  in  the  year  1586.  Her  parents. 
Gasper  Florez  and  Mary  Olivia,  were  persons  of  virtue  and 
high  birth. 

Her  aunt.  Lady  Isabella  of  Herrera,  being  chosen  as  her 
godmother,  gave  her  the  name  of  Isabella  in  Baptism.  Three 
months  after,  however,  as  the  child  slept  in  her  cradle,  her 
mother  and  several  other  persons  saw  a beautiful  rose  on  her 
sweet  little  countenance.  From  that  time  they  called  her 
by  the  name  of  Rose. 

Rose’s  godmother  thought  herself  slighted  by  this  change 
of  name.  So  much  offended  was  the  lady  that  she  lived  at 


■ Chief  authorities  used:  Father  J.  B Peuillet.  O.  P..  ‘‘Life  of  St.  Rose  of  Lima,”  translated 
from  the  French  by  the  Fathers  of  the  English  Oratory  and  sdited  by  Rev.  F.  W.  Faber,  D.D.i 
Butler.  ' Lives  of  the  Saiata.’ 


312 


ST  HOSE  OF  LIMA. 


variance  with  the  child's  mother  until  an  end  was  put  to  the 
unhappy  dispute  by  the  action  of  the  Archbishop  of  Lima, 
who  gave  her  the  name  of  Rose  in  Confirmation.* 

As  a child  she  was  very  remarkable,  bore  many  severe 
afflictions  with  unflinching  heroism,  and  was  exceedingly 
neat  in  her  dress.  In  prayer  she  was  most  fervent.  We 
are  assured  that  she  received  from  God,  at  a most  tender 
age,  an  inspiration  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  St.  Catharine 
of  Sienna,  by  a perfect  imitation  of  the  virtues  of  that  great 
and  saintly  woman. 

To  Rose’s  pure  heart  and  girlish  mind,  innocence  was  the 
grand  and  only  attraction.  She  loved  purity,  because  it  is 
“the  beautiful  and  white  virtue  of  the  soul.”  At  five  years 
of  age,  we  are  told,  she  made  a vow  of  virginity,  consecrat- 
ing her  whole  life  to  Heaven  Thus  we  may  say  of  America’s 
first  Saint,  what  a celebrated  Doctor  of  the  Church  said  of 
the  lovely  St.  Agnes — that  her  piety  and  virtue  were  above 
her  years,  and  far  beyond  the  strength  of  nature.’ 

Her  obedience  was  in  the  highest  degree  heroic.  Her 
mother — like  many  others  who  love  their  children  more  for 
this  world  than  for  Heaven — often  begged  Rose  to  take  much 
care  of  her  beauty,  and  even  desired  her  to  use  paint  and 
cosmetics.  But  the  pure,  simple  soul  of  our  Saint  saw 
the  folly  of  such  advice.  She  knew  that  modesty,  virtue, 
and  simplicity  in  dress  are  the  highest  ornaments  sanctioned 
by  religion  and  good  sense ; and  she  earnestly  entreated  her 
mother  not  to  oblige  her  to  obey  in  such  matters. 


‘ Rose,  when  older,  had  some  scruples  about  it  on  learning  that  it  was  not  the  name  she  had 
ri'ceived  ir.  Baptism.  She  thoughwit  was  an  effect  of  the  complaisance  or  vanity  of  her  parents, 
who  wished  to  make  her  beauty  more  attractive  by  this  agreeable  name.  Disturbed  by  this  con- 
liuct,  which  she  thought  unworthy  of  the  spirit  of  a Christian,  she  went  to  the  Church  of  the 
Dominicans,  She  entered  the  Chapel  of  the  Rosary,  cast  herself  at  the  feet  of  the  Blessed  Vir 
gin,  and  made  knoivn  her  uneasiness.  Our  Blessed  Mother  immediately  consoled  her,  assuring 
her  that  the  name  of  Rose  was  pieasing  to  Jesus  Christ ; and  that  as  a mark  of  her  affection,  she 
would  also  honor  her  with  her  oivn  name,  and  that  henceforward  she  should  be  called  Bose  oj 
SI.  Mary.  So  that  we  may  say  that  of  all  the  saints  whose  names  Almighty  God  has  changed 
by  an  extraordinary  favor,  St.  Rose  of  Lima  is  the  first  and  perhaps  the  only  one  whose  surname 
has  been  also  changed  by  Heaven. — Father  Feuillet,  0.  P. 

5 From  the  testimony  of  her  confessors,  it  is  certain  that  Rose  began  to  have  the  use  of  reason 
from  her  fifth  year  ; and  so  pleased  was  God  with  the  generous  action  related  above,  that  He 
showered  down  upon  her  His  choicest  benedictions,  and  enriched  her  with  so  many  graces,  that 
•he  preserved  her  Baptismal  innocence  till  her  death. — Father  FeuilUt,  0.  P. 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


313 


On  one  occasion  the  mother  ordered  her  daughter  to  wear 
a garland  of  flowers  on  her  head.  Eose  did  not  think  her- 
self strong  enough  to  effect  a change  in  this  command,  and 
obeyed.  But  she  sanctified  her  submission  by  the  painful 
mortification  Avith  which  she  accompanied  it.  Our  Lord  hav- 
ing recalled  to  her  mind  the  remembrance  of  the  cruel  thorns 
which  composed  His  Crown  in  His  Passion,  she  took  the  gar- 
land, and  fixed  it  on  her  head  with  a large  needle,  which 
penetrated  so  deeply  that  at  night  the  maid  could  scarcely 
remove  the  garland.  Thus  she  contrived  to  elude,  without 
resisting,  the  orders  of  her  mother,  when  they  were  openly 
opposed  to  the  high  virtue  at  which  our  Saint  aimed;  and 
she  punished  herself  severely  when  she  obeyed  her  in  any- 
thing that  partook  of  the  vanity  of  the  world. 

It  may  be  said,  in  truth,  that  from  her  infancy,  Rose’s 
patience  in  suffering  and  her  love  of  mortification  were 
extraordinary,  and  whilst  yet  a child  she  ate  no  fruit,  fasted 
three  days  a week,  allowing  herself  on  them  only  bread  and 
water,  and  on  other  days  taking  only  herbs  and  pulse.  When 
she  was  grown  up,  her  garden  was  planted  with  nothing  but 
bitter  herbs,  interspersed  with  figures  of  crosses. 

By  the  changes  of  worldly  fortune,  Gasper  Florez  fell  from 
a state  of  opulence  into  great  distress.  The  pious  wife  of 
the  Treasurer  Gonsalvo  took  Rose  into  her  family;  and  the 
young  Saint,  by  working  there  all  day  in  the  garden,  and 
late  at  night  with  her  needle,  managed  to  relieve  and 
comfort  her  father  and  mother  in  their  necessities. 

She  was  a perfect  mistress  of  needlework,  either  in  de- 
signing flowers,  or  in  tracing  them  on  embroidery  or  tapestry. 
So  much  beauty  and  delicacy  had  her  work,  that  it  seemed 
to  surpass  art  and  nature.  And  what  is  more  surprising  is, 
that  though  her  mind  was  often  elevated  to  God  during  her 
hours  of  toil,  yet  her  hand  guided  the  work  as  faultlessly 
as  if  her  mind  was  solely  intent  upon  it. 

Besides  needlework,  she  cultivated  a little  garden,*  in 
which  she  raised  violets  and  other  flowers.  These  she  sold, 
to  help  her  parents  in  their  necessities;  and  as  all  her  indus- 
try was  insufficient  to  save  them  from  poverty,  she  con- 


314 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


fessed  to  a holy  person  that  Jesus  Christ  himself  graciously 
supplied  the  deficiency  by  secret  and  wonderful  means. 
Her  parents  she  attended  in  sickness  with  angelic  kindness 
and  assiduity.  She  was  always  at  their  bedside,  ready  by 
day  and  by  night  to  perform  the  vilest  and  most  difficult 
services. 


CHAPTER  11. 

GLANCES  AT  VIRTUE  IN  ACTION. 

Matrimonial  annoyances — Rose  becomes  a member  of  the 
Third  Order  of  St.  Dominic — Her  humility — Her  char- 
ity and  great  self-control — Her  wonderful  purity — Her 
fasts — How  she  chastised  herself— Her  singular  bed — 
The  honor  paid  to  her  even  by  irrational  creatures. 

As  Rose  grew  up  to  womanhood,  her  extreme  beauty,  the 
refinement  of  her  mind,  her  delightful  conversation,  and 
even  her  virtue  itself,  which  greatly  enhanced  her  personal 
attractions,  captivated  many  hearts.  To  her  this  was  a 
great  annoyance,  as  she  never  for  a moment  forgot  her  vow 
of  virginity.  She  invented  all  sorts  of  means  to  disfigure 
herself.  She  made  her  face  pale  and  livid  with  fasting,  and 
washed  her  hands  in  hot  lime  to  take  the  skin  off  them. 
She  sought  solitude,  shut  herself  up  closely  in  the  house, 
went  out  very  seldom,  and  then  only  when  it  was  quite 
necessary.  Thus  several  years  passed  away. 

But  notwithstanding  all  these  precautions,  the  good  young 
lady  was  not  able  to  prevent  several  persons  from  seeking 
her  hand  in  marriage.  Among  others,  one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished women  in  the  capital,  as  much  delighted  with 
her  virtue  as  her  beauty,  wished  her  to  become  the  bride  of 
her  only  son.  The  lady  openly  made  the  request  to  Rose’s 
parents,  who,  having  eleven  children  to  provide  for,  received 
the  proposal  most  favorably,  thinking  the  alliance  would  be 
very  advantageous  to  themselves  and  their  family. 

Our  Saint  was  the  only  person  to  whom  this  offer  was  dis- 
agreeable. She  blamed  herself  for  it.  She  saw  that  there 
was  now  no  means  of  escape  but  by  openly  declaring  her 
firm  resolution  not  to  marry.  Her  parents  were  surprised, 
315 


316 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


but  did  not  lose  hopes  of  inducing  her  to  comply  with  their 
wishes.  They  tried  caresses,  threats,  and  finally  blows ; 
but  it  was  all  in  vain. 

After  this  storm  blew  over.  Rose  sought  a port  of  safety 
in  the  Third  Order  of  St.  Dominic.  She  solemnly  received 
the  habit  at  the  hands  of  the  Rev.  Father  Velasquez  on  the 
10th  of  August,  1606,  being  twenty  years  of  age.  This 
state  of  life,  it  may  be  observed,  did  not  prevent  the  Saint 
from  continuing  to  assist  her  father  and  mother. 

It  is  said  that  he  who  knows  not  how  to  be  humble  knows 
nothing.  Humility  now-a-days  is  a rare  virtue,  but  it  is, 
nevertheless,  a great  one.  This  wise  young  lady  was  a 
model  of  deep  humility.  All  her  actions  proclaimed  it.  At 
confession,  the  abundance  of  her  tears  might  make  her  pass 
in  the  eyes  of  a stranger  for  a great  public  sinner.  Yet,  so 
pure  and  innocent  was  the  life  she  led,  that  her  confessors 
had  often  great  difficulty  in  finding  matter  for  absolution  in 
those  things  of  which  she  accused  herself  with  so  many 
tears. 

She  kept  so  strict  a watch  over  herself,  that  she  was  never 
heard  to  speak  one  word  louder  than  another,  or  to  find  the 
least  fault  with  the  actions  or  conduct  of  others.  There 
was  nothing  in  her  behavior  that  could  give  annoyance  to 
those  with  whom  charity  or  duty  obliged  her  to  converse; 
on  the  contrary,  her  sweet  and  obliging  manners  made  her 
so  agreeable  to  everyone,  that  it  was  commonly  said  that 
the  name  Hose  did  not  suit  her,  because  she  had  not  its 
thorns. 

Her  charity  towards  mankind  was  so  universal,  that  this 
queen  of  virtues  seemed  to  be  the  soul  which  animated  her 
words,  actions,  and  entire  conduct.  The  love  which  she  had 
for  Grod  and  her  neighbor  filled  her  whole  heart,  and  had  so 
entirely  disengaged  it  from  earthly  things,  that  she  was  in- 
sensible to  the  pleasures  which  most  men  lave  so  passion- 
ately. Being  asked  one  day  if,  in  the  midst  of  the  delights 
and  consolations  which  Almighty  God  infused  so  abun- 
dantly into  her  soul,  she  did  not  feel  her  heart  attached  to 
worldly  things,  she  confessed  that  it  was  impossible  for  her 


ST.  BOSE  OF  LIMA. 


317 


to  think  of  them,  or  to  take  the  least  pleasure  in  them.  By 
this  wonderful  detachment  from  creatures,  she  attained  to  a 
rare  purity  of  heart,  in  some  degree  similar  to  that  which 
the  angels  possess  by  the  privilege  of  their  nature.* 

Her  spirit  of  penance,  the  mark  of  the  true  Christian,  Avas 
not  less  marvelous.  By  long  training  she  reached  an  as- 
tonishing degree  of  abstinence.  Often  for  the  space  of 
twenty-four  hours  she  would  take  nothing  but  a piece  of 
bread  and  a little  water.  This  must  have  been  at  the 
expense  of  great  suffering,  for  the  extreme  heat  of  Peru  is 
very  exhaustive  of  physical  strength. 

During  the  last  few  years  of  her  life.  Rose  accustomed 
herself  to  fast  in  the  following  manner : She  observed  very 
strictly  the  fast  of  her  Order  from  the  festival  of  the  Exalta- 
tion of  the  Holy  Cross  until  Easter  Sunday.  From  the 
beginning  of  Lent,  she  left  off  bread,  contenting  herself  with 
a few'  orange  pippins  every  day  of  the  forty  that  are  conse- 
crated to  penance.  On  Fridays  she  took  only  five.  She 
ate  so  little  during  the  rest  of  the  year,  that  what  she  took 
in  eight  days  was  scarcely  sufficient  nourishment  for  twenty- 
four  hours.  Indeed,  she  was  known  to  make  a moderate- 
sized loaf  and  a pitcher  of  water  last  fifty  days.  But  what 
seems  miraculous  in  her  austerities,  is  that  the  Saint  derived 
more  strength  from  her  fasts  than  from  the  food  which  she 
took. 

Rose  likewise  daily  chastised  her  body  with  instruments 
of  penance,  so  much  so,  that  her  confessors  Avere  obliged 
to  restrict  her  in  the  use  of  them.  After  she  became  a nun, 
she  was  not  content  with  a common  sort  of  discipline.  She 
made  one  for  herself,  composed  of  two  iron  chains,  and  used 
it  daily  with  merciless  severity.  She  disciplined  herself, 
first,  for  her  own  sins ; secondly,  for  all  souls  engaged  in 
sin ; thirdly,  for  the  pressing  necessities  of  the  Church ; 


> During  the  whole  course  of  her  life — which  lasted  thirty-one  years — she  was  never  guilty  of 
the  slightest  fault  against  purity;  and,  what  is  something  miraculous,  she  was  never  even  as- 
sailed with  thoughts  contrary  to  that  holy  and  beautiful  virtue.  And  this  is  a privilege  not 
granted  to  the  most  cherished  and  favored  saints  of  God.  Eleven  learned  priests,  six  Domini- 
cans and  five  Jesuits,  who  had  several  times  heard  her  general  confessions,  deposed  this  on  their 
solemn  oath. 


318 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


fourthly,  for  Lima  or  Peru,  when  threatened  with  any  great 
misfortune  ; fifthly,  for  the  souls  in  purgatory ; sixthly,  for 
those  in  their  last  agony ; and,  seventhly,  in  reparation  of 
the  outrages  offered  to  Almighty  God. 

The  bed  Rose  used — and  which  she  constructed  herself — 
was  in  the  form  of  a rough  wooden  box.  Into  it  she  put  a 
quantity  of  small  stones  of  different  sizes,  that  her  body 
might  suffer  more  and  more,  and  might  not  enjoy  the  re- 
pose which  a smoother  couch  would  have  afforded  Nor 
did  this  seem  hard  enough.  She  afterwards  added  pieces 
of  wood  and  broken  tiles  ; and  such  was  the  luxurious  bed 
on  which  this  young,  delicate,  and  beautiful  girl  took  the 
rest  necessary  to  recruit  her  exhausted  strength  for  the 
space  of  fifteen  years! 

AVhen  some  good  persons,  through  charity,  entreated  the 
Saint  to  moderate  her  austerities,  she  answered:  “As  I can- 
not do  any  good,  is  it  not  just  that  I should  suffer  whatever 
lam  capable  of  suffering f’ 

Rose’s  body  being  so  obedient  to  the  laws  of  her  mind, 
and  her  mind  so  perfectly  submissive  to  the  will  of  God,  it 
is  not  surprising  to  learn  that  even  irrational  creatures  re- 
spected her  virtue.  The  dampness  of  the  earth,  and  the 
foliage  of  the  trees  which  surrounded  her  little  hermitage, 
drew  thither  a countless  multitude  of  mosquitoes.  It  is 
well  known  how  these  small,  malicious  busybodies  love  the 
shade,  and  take  such  a queer  delight  in  ceaselessly  annoy- 
ing all  who  are  within  their  reach.  But  there  was  one  whom 
they  touched  not.  It  was  Rose.  Not  one  of  the  legion  of 
mosquitoes  that  covered  the  walls,  windows,  and  doors  of 
her  garden  cell  presumed  to  annoy  her.  On  the  contrary, 
they  showed  so  much  respect  for  the  purity  and  sanctity  of 
her  person  that  they  seemed  to  honor  in  her  the  sovereign 
power  of  the  good  God  who  had  created  them.  To  the 
Saint’s  mother,  however,  and  other  persons  who  came  to 
visit  her,  the  mosquitoes  exhibited  no  such  marked  defer- 


• After  the  Saint's  death.  Mary  of  UsateKni  kept  some  links  of  this  discipline,  which,  it  is  said, 
exhaled  so  sweet  an  odor  that  all  who  examined  them  were  obliged  to  confess  that  so  strange  a 
phenomenon  was  snpematural.  ' 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


319 


ence.  They  attacked  all  comers  with  that  vigor  and  venom 
for  which  they  are  so  renowned  even  to  this  day  in  the 
backwoods  of  America. 

In  the  last  year  of  her  life,  a bird  whose  melody  was  most 
charming  placed  itself  opposite  her  room  during  the  whole 
season  of  Lent.  As  soon  as  the  sun  began  to  sink  in  the 
west,  Rose  ordered  the  little  warbler  to  employ  its  notes  in 
praising  God.  The  bird  obeyed,  and,  raising  its  tiny  voice, 
it  sang  vigorously,  until  the  Saint,  unwilling  to  be  outdone 
in  offering  canticles  of  praise  and  benediction  to  God,  began 
most  sweetly  to  sing  hymns  to  His  glory.  When  she  had 
finished,  the  little  songster  of  the  grove  commenced  again, 
and  thus  together  the  Saint  and  the  bird  composed  a choir  in 
which  they  sang  alternately  for  an  hour  the  praises  of  the 
Almighty.  At  six  o’clock,  she  dismissed  her  little  feathered 
companion  till  next  day,  and  so  punctual  was  it  that  never 
did  it  fail  to  appear  at  the  time  fixed  1 


CHAPTER  m. 

ALONG  THE  STRAIGHT  AND  NARROW  WAT. 

Rose's  spirit  of  prayer— Her  deep  insight  into  the  mys- 
teries of  religion— A tormenter  at  home — Persecution — 
Sickness— The  Saint' s charity— Her  confidence  in  God — 
She  learns  of  the  day  of  her  death  hy  revelation — Her 
last  sufferings — The  end. 

The  path  that  leads  to  saintliness  is,  it  is  true,  a straight 
and  narrow  one ; but  it  has  its  pure  joys,  and  peace,  and 
beauties,  and  consolations.  Many  were  the  extraordinary 
graces  which  God  bestowed  upon  this  holy  American  lady ; 
and  Christ  once  in  a vision  called  her  soul  his  Spouse. 

“The  more  a man  is  united  within  himself,  and  inte- 
riorly simple,”  writes  the  author  of  The  Imitation  of 
Christ,  “the  more  and  higher  things  does  he  understand 
without  labor,  for  he  receives  the  light  of  understanding 
from  above.  A pure,  simple,  and  steady  spirit  is  not  dissi- 
pated by  a multitude  of  affairs,  because  he  performs  them 
all  to  the  honor  of  God,  and  endeavors  to  be  at  rest  within 
himself,  and  free  from  all  seeking  of  himself.” 

It  was  thus  with  Rose  of  Lima.  The  supernatural  lights 
with  which  God  enriched  her  understanding  inflamed  her 
heart  with  so  ardent  a love  for  prayer,  that  even  sleep  itself 
could  not  distract  her  from  it.  So  completely  absorbed  was 
her  imagination  in  this  holy  exercise,  that  she  was  often 
heard  to  repeat  while  asleep  the  same  number  of  vocal 
prayers  as  she  had  said  during  the  day. 

She  meditated  every  day  for  three  hours  on  the  benefits  of 
God,  and  the  countless  graces  she  had  received  from  His 
mercy.  Her  vocal  prayer  was  continual.  Indeed,  it  is  be- 
yond the  power  of  our  imagination  to  conceive  how,  though 
320 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA 


32i 


the  presence  of  God  entirely  engrossed  all  the  interior  pow- 
ers of  her  soul,  she  still  acted  in  exterior  things  with  great 
presence  of  mind,  giving  the  proper  answers  to  questions, 
and  carefully  finishing  any  work  she  commenced.  AVhen 
in  church  she  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  altar,  and  never 
looked  at  anything  else.  Thus,  according  to  the  advice  of 
the  Holy  Book,  she  kept  God  in  her  mind  all  the  days  of 
her  life. 

The  Almighty  rewarded  this  purity  and  simplicity  of 
mind  by  giving  her  a deep  insight  into  the  most  profound 
mysteries  of  religion.  Some  learned  theologians  hearing 
-of  this,  had  the  curiosity  to  converse  with  her  on  such  sub- 
lime subjects  as  the  Blessed  Trinity,  the  Incarnation,  grace, 
and  predestination;  and  after  a long  conference,  they  con- 
fessed that  they  had  never  known  a more  enlightened  soul, 
and  that  the  Saint  had  not  acquired  the  knowledge  of  these 
elevated  truths  of  faith  by  the  vivacity  of  her  mind,  or  by 
application  to  study. 

But  there  is  another  feature  in  her  career  to  which  we 
must  devote  a few  words.  As  thorns  spring  forth  with 
roses,  so  grief  and  pain  seem  to  have  been  born  with  the 
blessed  Rose.  Her  life  was  one  long  chain  of  sufferings, 
sickness,  pains,  and  crosses,  which  exercised  her  patience 
from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb  by  a tedious  martyrdom. 

The  sweet  disposition  and  religious  spirit  of  the  Saint 
were  often  severely  tried  by  the  passionate  temper  of  her 
mother,  who  found  fault  with  everything  her  daughter  did. 
She  condemned  her  reserve,  blamed  her  fasts,  disliked  her 
taking  up  so  much  time  in  prayer  and  retirement  so  op- 
posed to  the  maxims  of  the  world ; and  for  these  reasons 
she  often  scolded  Rose,  and  went  so  far  as  to  use  a thou- 
sand abusive  epithets,  as  if  she  had  been  an  infamous  per- 
son. At  the  least  provocation  she  gave  her  blows  on  the 
cheek,  but  when  she  was  carried  away  by  the  fury  of  anger, 
she  put  no  bounds  to  her  malicious  abuse.  She  even  as- 
sailed her  daughter  with  blows  and  kicks ; and  on  one  oc- 
casion she  took  a thick,  knotty  stick  and  struck  her  with  all 
her  strength.  She  began  to  treat  Rose  thus  when  she  cut 


322 


ST  ROSE  OF  lima. 


off  her  hair,  after  having  consecrated  her  virginity  to  Grod, 
and  she  continued  the  same  treatment  on  many  other  OC' 
casions. 

Those  with  whom  the  holy  heroine  lived, were  also  actu- 
ated towards  her  by  the  vilest  feelings  of  envy  and  vexa- 
tion, and  all  because  they  saw  her  lead  a life  so  different 
from  theirs.  To  disoblige  and  annoy  her,  they  did  every- 
thing in  their  power.  They  even  threatened  to  report  her 
to  the  Inquisition, as  a deluded  girl  and  a hypocrite,  who 
was  deceiving  the  world  by  a false  appearance  of  virtue! 

Sickness  came  upon  her  in  all  sorts  of  shapes.  She 
was  three  years  in  bed  a paralytic,  suffering  great  torture 
without  shedding  a tear,  or  making  the  least  complaint. 
These  diseases  arose  from  different  causes,  which  all  united 
in  her  body  to  give  her  an  increase  of  torture.  Even  the 
physicians  were  surprised  to  see  her  suffer  so  long,  some- 
times from  tertian,  sometimes  from  quartan  fevers,  which 
made  her  burn  with  heat  and  then  shiver  with  cold;  for  so 
dried  up  and  attenuated  was  her  body  that  there  seemed  to 
be  scarcely  anything  remaining  to  nourish  fever. 

On  her  part,  this  heroic  woman  adored  the  hand  of  God 
in  her  infirmities,  acknowledging  that  they  did  not  proceed 
in  her  from  any  derangement  of  the  system,  as  is  the  case 
with  others,  but  from  the  particular  dispensation  of  Christ, 
who  sent  them  to  exercise  her  patience,  and  to  furnish  her 
with  opportunities  of  grace  and  merit.  She  was  a daughter 
of  affliction.  But  in  the  midst  of  her  pains  and  sorrows, 
she  would  look  at  her  crucifix,  and  exclaim:  “Oh,  Jesus, 
increase  my  sufferings,  but  increase  also  Thy  divine  love  in 
my  soul !” 

Her  charity  was  boundless.  One  day  when  she  had  noth- 
ing to  give  a poor  woman,  who  begged  her,  for  the  love  of 
God  to  give  her  some  old  clothes  to  cover  her  poor  little 
half-naked  children.  Rose  took  a large  cloak  belonging  to 
her  mother,  and  without  any  permission  beyond  that  which 
she  interiorly  received  from  God,  who  inspired  her  to  per- 
form this  action,  she  bestowed  it  upon  the  unhappy  mendi- 
cant. Her  mother  was  displeased  with  this  sort  of  liberal- 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


323 


ity ; but  the  Saint  humbly  entreated  her  not  to  be  uneasy; 
and  assured  her  that  Almighty  God  would  make  her  a 
return  far  beyond  the  cost  of  her  cloak.  Nor  was  she 
deceived  in  her  expectations.  During  the  same  day  a stran- 
ger came  in  and  gave  her  fifty  pieces  of  money.  Three  days 
after,  a lady  sent  her  by  a servant  a piece  of  cloth  large 
enough  to  make  another  cloak;  and  the  Dominicans  added 
to  this  by  sending  her  another  fine  piece  of  cloth. 

Rose  made  herself  the  attendant  and  infirmarian  of  the 
poor.  She  took  home  with  her  Jane  de  Bovadilla,  a young 
orphan  lady,  who,  besides  her  great  poverty,  had  a cancer  in 
her  breast,  of  which  no  one  could  bear  the  insupportable 
odor  God  revealed  her  condition  to  the  Saint.  She  went 
immediately  to  see  the  unfortunate  girl,  offered  to  wait  upon 
her,  and  that  she  might  be  able  to  do  it,  she  persuaded  her 
to  come  to  her  father’s  house,  where  she  could  render  her 
every  kind  of  assistance.  Still,  as  the  Saint  knew  that  her 
mother  was  a little  too  much  attached  to  her  own  interests, 
she  told  her  patient  that  she  would  hire  a room  in  the  house, 
and  that  she  would  give  her  the  money  to  pay  for  herself, 
only  requiring  that  the  young  lady  should  keep  this  a se- 
cret. Rose  hired  the  room,  brought  Miss  de  Bovadilla  to  it, 
charitably  waited  upon  her,  and  worked  more  than  usual  to 
obtain  the  money  necessary  for  the  payment  of  the  lodging, 
which  the  young  lady  did  not  quit  till  she  was  perfectly  re- 
covered. 

A little  while  after,  her  mother  became  acquainted  with 
the  foregoing  case,  and  gave  her  leave  to  bring  home  sick 
persons.  On  receiving  this  permission,  Rose  exercised  her 
charity  towards  the  poor  women  and  girls  whom  she  met  in 
the  streets,  whatever  might  be  their  condition.  Nor  was 
she  satisfied  with  merely  giving  them  a lodging.  She 
nursed  them,  made  their  beds,  dressed  their  ulcers,  washed 
their  clothes,  and,  in  short,  rendered  them  every  sort  of 
service,  making  no  distinction  between  the  Spaniard  and 
the  Indian,  the  free  and  the  slave,  the  European  or  the 
African  Negro. 

We  are  told  in  the  Holy  Book  that  the  shadow  of  St. 


324 


ST.  BOSE  OF  LIMA. 


Peter  restored  the  sick  to  health.  The  mere  sight  of  our 
Saint  often  efPected  a cure.  On  one  occasion  Don  John 
d’Almansa,  a gentleman  of  high  rank,  being  dangerously 
ill,  desired  very  much  to  speak  to  Rose  once  more  before  he 
died.  She  went  to  see  him,  to  afford  him  this  satisfaction. 
When  the  saintly  lady  entered  his  room,  he  remarked  quite 
a heavenly  beauty  on  her  pure  countenance,  from  which  he 
conceived  a firm  hope  that  she  w'ould  obtain  his  cure  from 
Almighty  God,  who  alone  could  raise  him  from  the  sad 
state  to  which  he  was  reduced.  While  she  was  speaking 
to  him,  he  fell  asleep  with  this  consoling  thought  in  his 
mind,  and  awoke  as  perfectly  recovered  as  if  he  had  never 
been  ill! 

Like  her  charity,  our  Saint’s  childlike  confidence  in  God 
was  wonderful.  One  day,  seeing  that  there  was  no  money 
in  the  house  to  buy  provisions,  or  a bit  of  bread  to  eat,  she 
went  to  open  the  chest  in  the  assurance  that  the  Almighty, 
who  never  abandons  those  who  trust  in  him,  would  provide 
for  those  so  dear  to  her.  She  was  not  deceived.  She  found 
the  bread-chest  full  of  loaves,  whiter  and  of  a different 
shape  from  the  ones  they  were  accustomed  to  eat. 

On  another  occasion,  the  supply  of  honey — which  is  much 
used  in  Peru — having  failed,  and  her  brothers  having 
brought  word  that  there  was  not  a single  drop  remaining. 
Rose,  full  of  confidence  in  God,  went  to  the  place,  and  found 
the  vessel  quite  full  of  excellent  honey.  It  lasted  the  family 
eight  months. 

When  her  father,  Gasper  Florez,  was  sick  and  weighed 
down  with  sorrow  at  not  being  able  to  pay  the  sum  of  fifty 
livres  which  he  owed,  and  which  he  was  pressed  to  return. 
Rose  was  informed  of  the  affair.  She  went  to  the  church 
and  begged  of  Christ  to  assist  him  on  the  occasion,  and  not 
to  allow  her  parent  to  be  put  to  confusion.  As  she  returned 
she  saw  a stranger  enter  the  house.  He  gave  her  father  a 
little  purse,  which  contained  precisely  the  sum  wanted  to 
satisfy  his  creditor.  On  many  other  occasions,  in  the  great 
necessities  to  which  her  family  was  often  reduced,  God 
favored  its  members  by  miraculous  means,  to  reward  the 


ST.  BOSE  OF  LIMA 


325 


Saint’s  admirable  confidence  in  His  almighty  power  and 
goodness 

Rose  learned  by  revelation  that  she  would  die  on  the  Fes- 
tival of  St.  Bartholomew,  and  when  she  reached  her  thirty- 
first  year — which  she  knew  she  would  not  live  to  complete 
—she  made  the  wife  of  Don  Gonzalez,  her  great  benefactor 
and  the  protector  of  her  family,  acquainted  with  the  day 
and  place  of  her  death.  She  was  in  perfect  health  when 
she  communicated  this  sad  intelligence. 

God  likewise  enlightened  our  Saint  as  to  the  extreme  suf- 
ferings she  was  to  endure  at  the  close  of  her  holy  and  hum- 
ble life.  He  showed  her  their  number,  and  revealed  to  her 
that  her  pains  would  be  so  violent  that  each  member  of  her 
body  would  have  its  own  particular  torment.  She  was  told 
that  she  would  have  to  suffer  the  same  thirst  which  tor- 
mented our  Blessed  Redeemer  on  the  Cross,  and  also  a 
burning  heat  which  would  dry  up  the  very  marrow  in  her 
bones.  But  the  heroine  trembled  not  at  the  thought  of  this 
woeful  species  of  martyrdom. 

On  the  night  of  the  1st  of  August,  Rose  retired  to  her 
room  in  perfect  health;  but  at  midnight  she  was  heard  pite- 
ously crying  and  moaning.  The  wife  of  Don  Gonzalez,  at 
whose  house  she  lived,  hastened  to  the  Saint’s  room,  and 
found  her  extended  on  the  floor,  half  dead,  cold,  pulseless, 
motionless,  and  scarcely  breathing. 

Skilled  physicians  were  at  once  summoned;  and,  after  a 
most  careful  diagnosis,  they  all  declared  that  her  infirmities 
and  sufferings  were  beyond  human  endurance,  and  that  such  a 
union  of  incompatible  symptoms  was  something  truly 
miraculous.  They  were  of  opinion,  in  short,  that  her  illness 
was  not  natural,  but  that  the  hand  of  God  had  sent  the  tor- 
ments which  thus  afflicted  His  servant.  As  for  Rose  herself, 
in  the  midst  of  her  agonies  of  pain,  she  exhibited  the  great- 
est peace  of  mind,  and  continually  thanked  all  who  at- 
tended her  for  their  kindness  and  devotion. 

At  length,  her  last  hour  arrived.  It  was  towards  midnight, 
^nd  a mysterious  noise  warned  her  that  the  angel  of  death 
had  come.  She  received  the  announcement  with  joy.  Just 


326 


8T.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


before  expiring,  she  requested  her  brother  to  remove  the 
bolster  from  beneath  her  head,  and  to  place  some  pieces 
of  wood  in  its  stead.  He  complied,  and  she  thanked  him 
for  this  last  act  of  kindness.  She  placed  her  head  upon  the 
pieces  of  wood,  to  die,  as  it  were,  upon  a sort  of  Cross,  and 
said  twice,  “Jesus  be  with  me!”  and  thus  passed  away  to 
its  heavenly  home  the  pure  and  beautiful  soul  of  America’s 
first  Saint,  Rose  of  Lima.  Her  precious  death  took  place 
on  the  24th  of  August,  the  Feast  of  St.  Bartholomew,  in  the 
year  1617.' 

So  lovely  did  death  itself  appear  upon  her  countenance, 
that  those  who  remarked  the  freshness  of  her  complexion 
and  the  redness  of  her  lips,  which  were  separated  so  as  to 
form  a pleasing  smile,  doubted  for  a long  time  whether  her 
soul  had  really  quitted  the  body.  They  beheld  so  much 
brightness  in  her  eyes,  and  such  apparent  marks  of  life, 
that  they  could  not  be  satisfied  till  they  had  placed  a mirror 
before  her  mouth,  and  perceived  that  she  did  not  in  the  least 
tarnish  it  with  her  breath.  Then  they  knew  that  their  holy 
friend  had  forever  bade  adieu  to  the  scenes  of  this  world. 


> On  the  game  night  a lady  named  Aloygia  de  Serrano  had  a revelation  of  the  Saint’s  death, 
and  as  Rose  and  she  had  promised  one  another,  that  the  one  who  died  first  would  make  it  known 
to  the  other.  Rose  kept  her  word  and  informed  her  friend  of  her  death  and  of  the  happiueMB  aba 
mxiojei.—Fat/ier  FeuilM,  0. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MIRACLES  AND  CANONIZATION, 

Examination  of  one  hundred  and  eighty  persons — A visit 
to  the  Saint  s tomb — What  a physician  saw — The  vis- 
ions of  a pious  lady — Sinners  converted — Two  persons 
raised  to  life — An  incurable  arm  cured — A poor  crip- 
ple healed  of  his  infirmities — A child  cured  of  leprosy 
— Canonization  of  St.  Rose. 

The  Saints  die  only  to  live.  Their  true  glory  is  beyond 
the  tomb.  So  it  was  with  the  holy  daughter  of  Peru.  The 
fame  of  her  sanctity  was  so  great  that  in  May,  1630,  an 
Apostolic  Brief  was  received  at  Lima,  by  which  the  Sacred 
Congregation  of  Rites  established  a tribunal  for  the  purpose 
of  examining  canonically  into  the  life,  actions,  and  miracles 
of  Sister  Rose  of  the  Third  Order  of  St.  Dominic.  Two 
years  were  employed  in  hearing,  juridically,  one  hundred 
and  eighty  persons  who  presented  themselves,  and  deposed 
on  their  solemn  oath  what  they  had  seen. 

Nothing  more  remained  to  terminate  the  proceedings  but 
to  visit  the  relics  of  the  servant  of  God.  It  was  fifteen 
years  after  her  death.  The  members  of  the  examining  tri- 
bunal went  to  her  tomb,  and  having  opened  it,  they  found 
her  bones  entire,  covered  with  dry  flesh,  which  exhaled  a 
delightful  odor  like  that  of  roses. 

A physician  well  known  for  his  virtue.  Dr.  Juan  de  Cas- 
tile, swore  before  the  examining  commissioners  that  Rose 
had  appeared  to  him  several  times,  fifteen  years  after  her 
death,  environed  with  an  extraordinary  light,  and  that 
he  saw  her  in  the  midst  of  this  light,  clothed  in  her 
religious  habit,  but  so  glorious  and  majestic  that  he 
could  find  no  words  to  depict  her  splendor.  In  her  right 
327 


328 


ST  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


hand  she  held  a lily,  the  emblem  of  her  virgin  purity ; and 
she  spoke  of  the  happiness  of  the  Saints  in  so  sublime  a 
manner  that  he  would  try  in  vain  to  express  their  glory. 

In  the  last  examination,  made  at  Lima  in  1631,  Dr.  Juan 
de  Castile  deposed  on  oath  that  for  six  months,  whenever 
he  made  his  meditation,  either  by  day  or  night,  he  had 
been  permitted  to  see  the  more  than  royal  magnificence  with 
which  Almighty  God  rewarded  the  merits  of  St.  Rose. 
This  he  saw  by  means  of  an  angel  whom  she  sent  from 
Heaven  to  invite  him  to  witness  such  a celestial  spectacle. 

She  appeared  likewise  to  a pious  widow  that  lived  in 
Lima.  One  day  when  this  good  lady  was  enraptured  to  see 
the  Saint  amid  a multitude  of  the  blessed.  Rose  said  to  her: 
“Mother,  this  state  of  glory  is  only  acquired  by  generous 
efforts.  Much  labor  is  necessary.  But  the  recompense 
with  which  God  crowns  our  trials  is  exceedingly  great. 
You  see  how  His  mercy  rewards  abundantly,  and  even  be- 
yond my  hopes,  the  pains  I suffered,  and  the  few  good 
actions  I performed  while  on  earth.” 

During  life  the  Saint  often  exhibited  her  love  for  her  native 
city  and  its  inhabitants  ; and  it  seems  that  she  testified  the 
same  interest  for  them  in  Heaven.  The  pious  lady  already 
mentioned  was  one  day  praying  for  Lima.  Rose  appeared 
to  her  and  said:  “Mother,  I will  do  what  you  requesc. 
God  has  promised  to  grant  me  for  these  dear  people  what- 
ever concerns  their  salvation.  Those  things  which  have 
been  recommended  to  my  intercession  I remember  well,  and 
I shall  not  fail  to  ask  for  them.” 

The  miracles  wrought  by  the  Saint  after  death  cannot  be 
here  recounted.  According  to  her  biographer,  the  number 
was  so  great  that  a volume  might  be  filled  on  this  subject 
alone.  We  merely  notice  a few  of  the  most  remarkable. 

When  her  body  was  exposed  before  burial,  it  was  observed 
that  some  young  libertines  who  came  to  the  church  merely 
to  gaze  on  the  pure  beauty  of  “Lima’s  holy  child,”  whom 
they  had  not  been  able  to  look  upon  attentively  during  life, 
returned  home  penetrated  with  great  contrition,  and  resolved 
to  change  their  sinful  ways. 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


329 


Magdalen  de  Torrez  was  the  daughter  of  a poor  laborer, 
who  dwelt  in  the  outskirts  of  Lima.  She  was  seized  with  a 
violent  fever,  and  died.  Everything  was  ready  for  the  girl’s 
burial,  when  her  mother,  placing  her  confidence  in  God  and 
St  Rose’s  protection,  laid  on  the  mouth  of  her  dead  daugh- 
ter a piece  of  a garment  which  had  belonged  to  our  Saint. 
AVonderful  to  relate,  this  girl,  who  was  quite  cold  and  whose 
body  was  stiff,  opened  her  eyes,  and  in  the  presence  of  her 
father  and  several  others  who  were  in  the  room,  arose  from 
the  mattress  in  as  perfect  health  and  strength  as  if  she  had 
never  been  unwell.  This  happened  in  October,  1627. 

In  the  year  1631,  Anthony  Bran,  the  servant  of  a pious 
lady,  died  of  a complication  of  diseases.  His  mistress  was 
much  afflicted.  On  visiting  the  room  of  the  departed,  she 
saw  a paper  picture  of  St.  Rose  on  the  pillow  of  the  bed. 
The  lady  immediately  entreated  the  Saint’s  protection  in  her 
sorrow,  and  earnestly  besought  her  to  obtain  from  God  the 
life  of  this  good  servant.  She  placed  the  picture  on  the 
corpse,  and  prayed  again  with  others  who  were  in  the  room. 
Anthony  came  to  life,  rose  up  in  a sitting  position,  and  pro- 
claimed in  a loud  voice  the  marvelous  favor  he  had  received 
through  the  intercession  of  St.  Rose.  The  same  day  he 
went  to  her  tomb,  to  return  thanks  to  God  and  his  kind 
benefactress. 

During  the  time  that  the  remains  of  the  Saint  were  lying 
in  church  before  interment,  Elizabeth  Durand  visited  the 
place.  She  Avished  to  touch  the  holy  body,  in  order  to 
recover  the  use  of  her  arm,  which  the  surgeons  pronounced 
incurable.  She  returned  home  with  the  arm  perfectly  re- 
stored. 

The  miraculous  cure  of  Alphonsus  Diaz  is  not  less  authen- 
tic. He  was  a poor  cripple,  well  known  to  hundreds,  and 
begged  his  bread  from  door  to  door  in  Lima.  With  much 
difficulty  he  dragged  himself  along  on  little  crutches,  on 
account  of  a contraction  of  the  nerves,  which  had  some 
years  before  so  dried  up  and  shortened  his  feet  that  he 
could  no  longer  support  himself  upon  them.  In  this  un- 
happy  condition  he  prayed  near  the  coffin  of  St.  Rose,  and 


830 


ST.  ROSE  OF  LIMA. 


earnestly  invoked  her  assistance  that  he  might  be  cured. 
Suddenly  he  felt  his  feet  stretch  out.  He  tried  his  weight 
upon  them,  to  see  if  he  could  walk.  He  was  no  longer  a 
cripple.  He  was  overjoyed  to  find  his  feet  once  more  pos- 
sessed of  all  the  vigor  and  elasticity  of  youth! 

In  IS'ovember,  1631,  an  orphan  babe,  ten  months  old, 
named  Mary,  lived  at  the  house  of  Jerome  de  Soto  Alvarado, 
who  had  taken  her  through  charity.  This  little  sufferer  was 
afflicted  with  leprosy,  and  was  truly  a horrible  object.  The 
servant  of  the  house,  seeing  that  the  physicians  despaired 
of  curing  the  child,  went  to  the  Church  of  St.  Dominic  to 
pick  lip  a number  of  roses  which  had  been  placed  on  the 
statue  of  our  Saint.  She  took  them  home,  and  without 
mentioning  her  intention,  applied  them  to  all  the  marks  of 
leprosy  which  appeared  on  the  child’s  body.  She  then 
wrapped  her  unhappy  little  charge  up  carefully,  carried  her 
to  bed,  and  the  next  morning  found  her  cured  of  the  lep- 
rosy. In  ecstasies  of  joy  she  ran  to  acquaint  her  master. 
Alvarado  hastened  to  view  the  wonderful  cure ; and  so  as-  ‘ 
tonished  was  he,  that  he  proceeded  at  once  to  give  testimony 
of  it  before  the  Apostolic  Commissioners  who  were  then 
examining  the  life  and  miracles  of  St.  Rose.  This  miracle 
was  so  public  and  well  authenticated  that,  to  keep  it  in  mind, 
they  ordered  that  the  little  girl  should  be  called  Mary  Rose, 
which  name  she  bore  all  her  life. 

The  crowning  glory  of  Rose  of  Lima  was  yet  to  come. 
She  was  canonized  in  1671  by  Pope  Clement  X.,  who  ap- 
pointed August  30th  for  her  festival.  Thus  the  Church  of 
God  solemnly  set  the  seal  of  her  unerring  approval  upon 
that  chain  of  wonders  which  extended  from  the  cradle  to 
the  grave  in  the  career  of  America’s  first  Saint.  What  a 
life  of  purity,  beauty,  and  childlike  simplicity ! In  this 
hollow,  heartless  and  pretentious  age,  it  brings  forcibly  to 
our  minds  the  profound  philosophy  embodied  in  the  words 
of  Jesus  Christ : “Unless  you  become  as  little  children,  you 
shall  not  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.” 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN, 

THE 

FOUNDER  OF  THE  CITY  OF  QUEBEC  AND  FATHER  OF  CANADA.' 


CHAPTER  1. 

GLANCES  AT  CHAMPLAIN’ S EARLY  CAREER. 

Birth  and  parents — Early  years— Henry  IV.  and  Cham- 
plain— Visit  to  the  West  Indies — Discovery  of  Canada 
— The  Commander  de  C hastes — Champlain' s first  msit 
to  Canada — De  Monts  and  his  schemes — Acadia — Visit 
to  the  Bay  of  Fundy  — Champlain' s labors — Father 
Aubry  lost  in  the  woods — St.  Croix — The  Coast  of 
Maine  — Winter  again — The  first  garden  in  North 
America  — Fight  with  Massachusetts  Indians  — The 
‘■^Ordre  de  Bon- Temps." 

Samuel  de  Champlain,  whose  Catholic  name  is  one  of  the 
brightest  in  the  early  history  of  North  America,  was  born 
in  France,  in  1567,  at  Brouage,  a small  seaport  on  the  Bay 
of  Biscay.  His  worthy  parents  were  Anthony  de  Cham- 
plain and  Margaret  le  Roy.  Of  his  youth  we  know  little. 
But  his  clear  head,  brave  heart,  and  active  spirit  obtained 
early  recognition,  as  we  find  him,  though  young  in  years,  a 
captain  in  the  royal  navy.  Nor  was  he  a stranger  to  the 


' Chief  aathoritiea  used:  Champlain,  “Narrative  of  a Voyage  to  the  West  Indies  and  Mexico, 
1509  to  1602,”  translated  by  A.  Wilmere;  “(Envres  de  Champlain,”  publiees  par  l’Abb4  C.  H. 
Laverdiere;  Pere  Charlevoix,  S.  J.,  “History  and  General  Description  of  New  France,”  trans- 
lated by  J.  G.  Shea;  Abbe  Ferland,  “Cours  D’Histoire  du  Canada;”  Parkman,  “ Pioneers  of 
France  in  the  New  World;”  Parkman,  “The  Jesuits  in  North  America;”  Parkman,  “The  Old 
Regime  in  Canada;  ” Belknap,  “ Biographies  of  the  Early  Discoverers;”  Gameau,  “ Histoire  da 
Canada;  ” De  Fontpertuis,  “ Les  Fran^ais  en  Amerique." 


331 


332 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


land,  for  we  are  told  that  he  drew  his  good  sword  on  morp 
than  one  field  of  fiery  conflict. 

At  this  period  the  famous  Henry  IV.  guided  the  des- 
tinies of  France;  and  with  the  keen  eye  of  a soldier  he  did 
not  fail  to  see  that  Champlain  was  no  ordinary  man.  ‘The 
Monarch  kept  him  near  his  person,  and  as  his  small  purse 
and  great  merit  were  rather  out  of  harmony,  Henry  settled 
a pension  on  the  future  Founder  of  Canada. 

When  peace  returned,  Champlain  determined  to  visit  the 
West  Indies  in  the  interests  of  France.  Spanish  jealousy 
had  hitherto  excluded  all  foreigners,  and  mystery  over- 
shadowed the  affairs  of  these  islands.  The  young  French 
commander  felt  that  it  would  be  a good  work,  however  peril- 
ous, to  throw  some  light  on  such  a dark  corner  of  the  world. 
He  set  out  on  his  journey.  Through  the  influence  of  an 
uncle,  he  obtained  the  command  of  one  of  the  vessels  of  a 
Spanish  squadron  about  to  sail  for  the  West  Indies.  What 
was  the  result  ? 

At  Dieppe,  in  France,  there  is  a curious  old  manuscript 
in  clear,  decisive,  and  somewhat  formal  handwriting  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  garnished  with  sixty-one  colored  pic- 
tures. Here  we  see  many  ports,  harbors,  islands,  and  rivers, 
adorned  Avith  rude  portraitures  of  birds,  beasts,  and  fishes 
pertaining  thereto.  Here  are  Indian  feasts  and  dances — 
here,  too,  are  descriptions  of  natural  objects,  each  with  its 
singular  illustrative  sketch,  some  drawn  from  life,  some  from 
memory — as  the  chameleon  with  two  legs— others  from  hear- 
say, among  which  is  the  portrait  of  the  griffin  said  to  haunt 
certain  districts  of  Mexico,  a monster  with  the  wings  of  a 
bat,  the  head  of  an  eagle,  and  the  tail  of  an  alligator.  This 
is  Champlain’s  journal.  It  is  written  and  illustrated  by  his 
own  hand,  and  with  the  most  complete  independence  of  the 
laws  of  art.  The  West  Indian  adventure  occupied  him 
two  years  and  a half.*  He  visited  the  principal  ports  of  the 
islands,  made  plans  and  sketches  of  them  all,  and  then, 
landing  at  Vera  Cruz,  journeyed  inland  to  the  city'  of 
Mexico.  Returning,  he  made  his  way  to  Panama.  Here, 


> 1599  to  1602. 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


333 


more  than  two  centuries  and  a half  ago.  his  bold  and  active 
mind  conceived  the  plan  of  a ship-canal  across  the  isthmus, 
“by  which,”  he  says,  “the  voyage  to  the  South  Sea*  would 
be  shortened  by  more  than  fifteen  hundred  leagues.”  ’ 

When  our  hero  returned  to  France,  the  work  of  his  life 
awaited  him.  In  the  first  half  of  the  sixteenth  century,’ 
James  Cartier,  a pious,  hardy,  and  enterprising  captain,  of 
St.  Malo,  discovered  Canada,  explored  its  great  river,  and 
erected  crosses  in  its  soil.  Many  were  the  attempts  made 
to  colonize  the  new  country,  but  failure  frowned  on  them 
all.  Providence  reserved  such  a glorious  achievement  for 
Samuel  de  Champlain  ; and,  as  a preparation,  he  was  to  serve 
a long  apprenticeship  in  another  field  of  exploration. 

At  this  time  there  lived  in  France  a man  to  whom  Henry 
IV.  was  much  indebted,  a white-headed  veteran,  a devout 
Catholic,  and  a stern  soldier.  It  was  the  Commander  de 
Chastes.  He  wished  to  end  his  days  engaged  in  some  noble 
work.  To  plant  the  Cross  and  the  fieur-de  lis  ’ in  the  wil- 
derness of  Canada  became  the  object  of  his  laudable  ambi- 
tion. He  went  to  Court  to  beg  a patent.  “ And  though  his 
head,”  writes  Champlain,  “was  crowned  with  gray  hairs  as 
with  years,  he  resolved  to  proceed  in  person  to  New  France, 
and  dedicate  the  rest  of  his  days  to  the  service  of  God  and 
his  King.” 

The  patent  was  readily  granted.  With  himself  De 
Chastes  associated  several  merchants  of  Dieppe,  and  fixed 
his  eye  on  Champlain  as  one  of  the  men  to  aid  in  carrying 
out  such  a cherished  enterprise.  Well  the  veteran  knew 
the  young  officer’s  merit  and  experience.  A preliminary 
exploration  was  agreed  upon.  Two  small  vessels  were  put 
in  readiness  at  Honfleur,  and  spreading  his  canvas,  Champlain 
stood  across  the  Atlantic  in  the  year  1603.  ’ After  buffeting 
the  billows  for  many  a day,  they  came  in  sight  of  the  wild 
shores  of  the  New  World,  and  held  their  course  up  the 
lonely  St.  Lawrence.  For  the  first  time  the  eagle  glance  of 

* The  Pacifie  Ocean.  ’ Parkman.  * 1534-.35.  * The  ro}'al  insignia  of  France. 

‘ In  this  voyage  Champlain  was  accompanied  by  Pontgravd,  a merchant  of  St.  Xalo,  who  had  al- 
ready been  in  Canada  ; he  had  spent  some  time  in  trading  at  Tadonssac. 


334 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


Champlain  took  in  the  bare  cliffs  Of  Quebec,  but  all  was 
solitude,  and  the  little  ships  bravely  bore  against  the  stream 
until  the  island  of  Montreal  was  reached.  There  stood 
Mount  Royal,  clothed  in  its  wild  but  stately  forest  garment, 
rising  before  the  eye  in  all  the  majesty  of  savage  grandeur. 

Champlain  explored  a portion  of  the  island,  and,  with  the 
aid  of  a few  Indians,  tried  to  pass  the  St.  Louis  Rapids. 
He  tried  in  vain,  however,  and  was  forced  to  return.  He 
then  made  many  inquiries  of  the  redmen  concerning  their 
country,  its  rivers,  falls,  lakes,  mines,  and  mountains.  On 
the  deck  of  his  vessel  the  Indians  drew  a rude  map  of  the 
river  above,  exhibiting,  with  more  or  less  correctness,  its 
chain  of  rapids,  the  vast  lakes  by  which  it  is  fed,  and  the 
wandering  tribes  living  near  its  banks. 

The  hardy  but  baffled  explorer  now  turned  the  prows  of 
his  vessels  homeward,  and  reached  Havre  de  Grace  only  to 
learn  of  the  death  of  the  worthy  veteran,  the  Commander 
de  Chastes. 

The  mantle  of  De  Chastes  fell  upon  the  shoulders  of 
Peter  du  Guast,  Sieur  de  Monts.  This  nobleman  Avished  to 
colonize  Acadia,^ imdi  the  French  King,  by  granting  him  a pat- 
ent, encouraged  the  enterprise.  He  was  constituted  Lieu- 
tenant-General of  all  the  territory  from  the  fortieth  to  the 
forty- sixth  degree  of  north  latitude,  with  power  to  subdue 
the  natives  and  convert  them  to  the  Catholic  faith.’  De 
Monts  equipped  two  vessels,  and  sailed  for  his  new  govei’ii- 
ment  in  March,  1604.  Champlain  was  pilot  of  the  expe- 
dition. 

In  May  they  arrived  at  a harbor  on  the  southeast  side  of 
the  peninsula  of  Acadia,  where  they  found  one  of  their 
countrymen,  named  Rossignol,  trading  with  the  Indians 
without  license.  They  seized  his  ship  and  cargo;  but  left 
him  the  poor  consolation  of  giving  his  name  to  the  harbor 

■ Acadia,  or  Acadie,  was  the  name  of  the  peninsula  now  called  Nova  Scotia,  from  its  first  set- 
tlement by  the  French,  in  1604,  till  its  final  cession  to  the  English,  in  1713.  In  the  original  commis- 
sion of  the  King  of  France,  New  Brunswick  and  a part  of  Maine  w-ere  included  in  Acadia,  but 
practically  the  colony  was  restricted  to  the  peninsula.— American  CyclopcBdia. 

* De  Monts,  though  a Calviniet,  was  obliged  to  promise  that  the  Indians  would  be  instructed 
in  the  true  Faith. 


■SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


335 


where  he  was  taken  The  provisions  found  in  his  vessel 
were  a most  seasonable  supply,  for  without  them  the  enter- 
prise must  have  been  abandoned.  The  place  is  now  called 
Liverpool. 

Coasting  along  the  peninsula  to  the  southwest,  they 
doubled  Cape  Sable,  and  came  to  anchor  in  St.  Mary’s  Bay. 
One  day  a party  went  on  shore  and  strolled  through  the 
forest.  Among  them  was  Father  Nicholas  Aubry,  of 
Paris.  He  separated  from  his  companions,  and  got  lost 
in  the  dense  woods.  In  vain  they  searched,  shouting  his 
name  to  the  echoing  solitudes.  Trumpets  were  sounded 
and  cannon  fired,  but  Father  Aubry  appeared  not.  He 
was  given  up  for  dead,  and  after  sixteen  days  they  quit- 
ted the  place. 

The  voyagers  now  proceeded  to  explore  the  Bay  of  Fundy,' 
called  by  De  Monts  La  Bay  Frangoise.  On  the  eastern  side  of 
the  Bay  they  discovered  a narrow  strait,  into  which  they  en- 
tered, and  soon  found  themselves  in  a spacious  basin,  envi- 
roned with  hills,  down  which  trickled  streams  of  fresh 
water  in  all  their  silvery  beauty.  Between  the  hills  ran  a 
fine  navigable  river,  which  they  named  the  Equille.  Baron 
de  Pontrincourt,  a member  of  the  expedition,  was  delighted 
with  the  scene.  Here  he  even  determined  to  make  his  resi- 
dence, and  having  obtained  a grant  of  it  from  De  Monts, 
the  Catholic  nobleman  gave  it  the  name  of  Port  Royal.’ 

From  this  point  they  sailed  farther  into  the  great  Bay,  to 
visit  a copper-mine.  It  was  a high  rock  on  a promontory 
between  two  bays.  The  copper,  though  mixed  with  stone, 
was  found  to  be  very  pure.  Crystals  and  curious  colored 
stones  were  also  found,  and  specimens  of  these  were  sent  to 
Henry  IV. 

On  a further  examination  of  the  coast,  they  came  to  a 
great  river  to  which  they  gave  the  name  of  the  St.  John.  It 
was  swarming  with  fish  and  full  of  islands.  The  voyagers 
sailed  up  this  river  about  fifty  leagues,  and  were  extremely 

' The  Ba>  of  Fnndv  «bout  170  miles  Ion?  and  from  30  to  50  miles  wide.  It  is  remarkable  for 
Us  extraordinarr  tides,  which  msh  np  from  the  r.aa  with  such  rapidity  as  sometimes  to  overtake 
ewinc  feeding  on  shellfish  on  the  shores. 

’ Now  .\nn:ipoIis. 


336 


bAMUEL  Dl:  CHAMPLAIN. 


delighted  with  the  vast  quantity  of  grapes  which  grew  on  its 
banks.  At  last  they  anchored  in  Passamaquoddy  Bay. 

The  untiring  Champlain,  exploring,  surveying,  sounding, 
had  made  charts  of  all  the  principal  roads  and  harbors ; and 
now,  pursuing  his  research,  he  entered  a river  which  he  calls 
La  Riviere  des  Etechemins.  Near  its  mouth  he  found  an 
islet,  fenced  ar<jund  with  rocks  and  shoals,  and  called  it 
St.  Croix,  a name  now  borne  by  the  river  itself.'  With  sin- 
gular infelicity,  this  spot  was  chosen  as  the  site  of  the  new 
colony.  It  commanded  the  river,  and  was  well  fitted  for 
defense.  These  were  its  only  merits.  Cannon,  however, 
were  landed  on  it,  a battery  was  planted  on  a detached  rock 
at  one  end,  and  a fort  begun  on  a rising  ground  at  the 
other.” 

At  St.  Mary’s  Bay  the  voyagers  had  found,  or  thought 
they  had  found  traces  of  iron  and  silver.  A pilot  was  now 
sent  back  to  pursue  the  search.  As  he  and  his  men  lay  at 
anchor,  fishing,  not  far  from  land,  one  of  them  heard  a 
strange  sound,  like  a weak  human  voice.  They  looked  to- 
wards the  shore,  and  saw  a small  black  figure  in  motion, 
seemingly  a hat  waved  at  the  end  of  a stick.  Rowing  in 
haste  to  the  spot,  they  found  Father  Aubry.  For  sixteen 
days  the  unhappy  priest  had  wandered  in  the  woods,  sus- 
taining life  on  berries  and  wild  fruits.  He  was  but  a shadow 
of  his  former  self.  AVhen  he  was  carried  to  St.  Croix,  his 
companions  greeted  him  as  one  risen  from  the  grave.’ 

Various  habitations  were  erected  on  St.  Croix.  It  was 
determined  to  found  a colony.  The  winter,  however,  proved 
extremely  severe.  To  add  to  the  miseries  of  the  ice-bound 
Frenchmen,  scurvy  attacked  them,  and  thirty-six  of  their 
number  soon  peopled  the  little  cemetery.  The  remaining 
forty,  who  were  nearly  all  sick  and  dispirited,  lingered  till 
the  spring,  when  their  woes  diminished,  and  they  gradually 

* The  name  of  St.  Croix  (or  Holy  Cross)  was  given  to  the  island  because  that  two  leagnea 
higher  there  were  brooks  which  “ came  cross-wise  to  fall  within  this  large  branch  of  the  sea.” — 
Belknap. 

The  St.  Croix  River  now  forms  the  N.  E.  boundary  between  the  United  States  and  British 
America.  It  is  about  125  miles  long. 

* Parkman.  ’ Ibid. 


SAMVEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


337 


recovered  by  means  of  the  fresh  vegetation.  ‘‘Yet  among 
them,”  writes  Parkman,  “ there  was  one  at  least,  who,  amid 
languor  and  defection,  held  to  his  purpose  with  an  indom- 
itable tenacity;  and  where  Champlain  was  present  there 
was  no  room  for  despair.” 

Weary  of  St.  Croix,  De  Monts  would  fain  seek  out  a 
more  auspicious  site,  whereon  to  rear  the  capital  of  his  wil- 
derness dominion.  During  the  previous  September,  Cham- 
plain had  ranged  the  westward  coast  in  a pinnace,  visited 
and  named  the  cliffs  of  Mount  Desert,  and  entered  the 
mouth  of  the  River  Penobscot.  Now,  embarking  a second 
time  in  a bark  of  fifteen  tons,  with  De  Monts,  several  gen- 
tlemen, twenty  sailors,  and  an  Indian  and  his  squaw,  the 
future  Founder  of  Quebec  set  forth  in  June,  1605,  on  a sec- 
ond voyage  of  discovery.  Along  the  strangely  indented 
coast  of  Maine,  by  reef  and  surf-washed  island,  black  head- 
land and  deep-embosomed  bay — by  Mount  Desert  and  the 
Penobscot,  the  Kennebec,  Portsmouth  Harbor,  and  the 
Isles  of  Shoals — landing  daily,  holding  conference  with  In- 
dians, giving  and  receiving  gifts — they  held  their  course, 
like  some  adventurous  party  of  pleasure,  along  those  now 
familiar  shores.  Champlain?  who,  we  are  told,  “delighted 
marvelously  in  these  enterprises,”  busied  himself,  after  his 
wont,  with  taking  observations,  sketching,  making  charts, 
and  exploring  with  an  insatiable  avidity  the  wonders  of  the 
land  and  the  sea.  Of  the  latter,  the  horseshoe- crab  awak- 
ened his  especial  curiosity,  and  he  describes  it  at  length, 
with  an  amusing  accuracy.  With  equal  care  and  truth  he 
paints  the  Indians,  whose  round,  mat-covered  lodges  they 
could  see  at  times  thickly  strewn  along  the  shores,  and  who, 
from  bays,  inlets,  and  sheltering  islands,  came  out  to  meet 
the  Frenchmen  in  canoes  of  bark  or  wood.  They  were  an 
agricultural  race.  Patches  of  corn,  beans,  tobacco,  squashes, 
and  various  eatable  roots  lay  near  all  their  wigwams.' 

The  voyagers  finally  came  to  Cape  Cod,  on  the  coast  of 
Massachusetts.  In  some  of  the  places  passed,  the  land  was 
most  inviting,  and  particular  notice  is  taken  of  the  grapes. 


‘ Parkman. 


338 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


But  the  savage  natives  appeared  to  be  numerous,  unfriendly, 
and  thievish.  De  Monts,  however,  preferred  safety  to 
pleasure,  and  returned  first  to  St  Croix,  and  then  to  Port 
Royal.  Here  he  found  a ship  from  France  with  fresh  sup- 
plies, and  a reinforcement  of  forty  men.  The  stores  which 
had  been  deposited  at  St.  Croix  were  removed  across  the 
Bay  of  Fundy,  but  the  buildings  were  left  standing.  New 
houses  were  erected  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  which  runs 
into  the  basin  of  Port  Royal.  There  the  stores  and  people 
were  lodged. 

De  Monts,  having  put  his  affairs  in  good  order,  embarked 
for  France,  leaving  Pontgrave  as  his  lieutenant.  Champlain 
and  another  pilot  were  to  perfect  the  settlement,  and 
continue  to  explore  the  country. 

The  winter  of  1605-6  came  on.  The  colonists  it  seems 
were  plentifully  supplied  by  the  Indians  with  venison,  and 
a great  trade  in  furs  was  carried  on.  Nothing  is  said  of 
the  scurvy;  but  they  had  a short  allowance  of  bread.  This, 
however,  Avas  not  from  any  scarcity  of  grain;  but  because 
they  had  no  other  mill  to  grind  it  than  the  hand-mill, 
which  required  hard  and  unceasing  labor.  So  much  did  the 
red  men  hate  this  unromantic 'exercise  that  they  preferred 
hunger  to  the  task  of  grinding  corn,  though  they  were  of- 
fered half  of  it  in  payment.  Only  six  men  died  in  the  course 
of  this  winter. 

Spring  came  around,  and  Baron  de  Poutrincourt  began  his 
plantation.  A spot  of  ground  was  cleared.  Within  fifteen 
days,  he  sowed  grains  and  several  kinds  of  garden  vegeta- 
bles. Thus  the  first  field,  cultivated  by  white  hands,  that 
marked  the  wild,  shaggy  continent  of  North  ximerica  from 
Florida  to  the  Pole,  owed  its  existence  to  the  enthusiastic 
industry  of  a Catholic  nobleman.  This  is  a trifling  fact,  but 
one  not  unworthy  of  remembrance. 

In  the  fall  of  1606,  Champlain,  accompanied  by  Poutrin- 
court, again  set  forth  on  a voyage  of  discovery.  Their 
vessel  was  a miserable  craft  of  eighteen  tons.  It  was 
roughly  handled  by  the  gales  of  autumn.  Coasting  along 
to  Nantucket  Sound,  they  became  disgusted,  and  turned 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


339 


back.  It  was  battling  with  danger  and  hardship  for  nothing. 

Along  the  eastern  verge  of  Cape  Cod  the  voyagers  found 
the  shore  thickly  studded  with  the  wigwams  of  a race  who 
were  less  hunters  than  tillers  of  the  soil.  At  Chatham  Har- 
bor five  of  the  company,  who,  contrary  to  orders,  had  re- 
mained on  shore  all  night,  were  assailed  as  they  slept  around 
their  fire  by  a shower  of  arrows  from  four  hundred  Indians. 
Two  were  killed  outright,  while  the  frightened  sundvors 
fled  for  their  boat,  bristled  like  porcupines.  The  scene  is 
oddly  portrayed  by  the  pencil  of  Champlain.  He,  with 
Poutrincourt  and  eight  men,  hearing  the  cries  for  aid,  and 
the  war-whoops  of  the  savages,  sprang  up  from  sleep,  and 
charged  the  yelling,  dusky  multitude,  who  fled  before  their 
spectral  assailants.  The  French  buried  their  dead  comrades; 
but  as  they  chanted  their  funeral  hymn,  the  Indians,  at  a 
safe  distance  on  a neighboring  hill,  were  dancing  in  glee  and 
triumph,  and  mocking  them  with  unseemly  gestures,  and  no 
sooner  had  the  party  re-embarked  than  they  dug  up  the 
dead  bodies,  burned  them,  and  arrayed  themselves  in  their 
shirts.* 

After  a perilous  voyage,  Champlain  and  his  companions 
arrived  at  Port  Royal  on  the  14th  of  November.  The  man- 
ner in  which  they  spent  the  third  winter  was  social  and 
festive.  At  the  chief  table — to  which  fifteen  persons  be- 
longed— an  Order  was  established  by  the  name  of  “ L’  Ordre 
de  Bon-Temps.”  It  was  the  work  of  the  ever-cheerful 
Champlain. 

Each  was  Grand  Master  for  a day,  during  which  he  wore 
the  collar  of  the  Order,  donned  a napkin,  and  carried  the 
staff  of  office.  After  supper  he  resigned  his  accoutrements, 
with  the  ceremony  of  drinking  a cup  of  wine  to  the  health 
of  his  successor.  It  seems  this  was  an  excellent  institu- 
tion. Its  advantage  was  that  each  member  was  emulous 
to  be  prepared  for  his  day  as  Grand  Master,  by  previously 
hunting  or  fishing,  or  purchasing  fish  and  game  of  the 
simple  natives.  It  was  a point  of  honor  to  fill  the  post 
with  credit. 


* Parkman. 


840 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


The  invited  guests  were  Indian  chiefs.*  Those  of  humbler 
degree — warriors,  squaws,  and  children — sat  on  the  floor,  or 
crouched  together  in  the  corners  of  the  hall,  eagerly  waiting 
their  portion  of  biscuit  or  of  bread— a novel  and  much- 
coveted  luxury.  Treated  always  with  kindness,  they  be- 
came fond  of  the  French,  who  often  followed  them  on  their 
moose-hunts,  and  shared  their  winter  bivouac.* 

Only  four  died  this  winter ; and  it  is  remarked  that  they 
were  “sluggish  and  fretful.*' 

Leaving  the  story  of  French  Acadia,  its  struggles  and 
misfortunes,  we  must  now  follow  the  footsteps  of  Champlain 
to  a new  field  of  activity  and  enterprise — a field  where  he 
toiled  with  the  shining  virtue  of  a true  Christian,  and  the 
indomitable  energy  of  a hero,  where  success  finally  smiled 
on  his  enlightened  and  well-directed  toil,  and  he  founded  a 
nation,  which  to-day  finds  a conspicuous  place  on  the  map 
of  North  America. 


' The  principal  of  these  was  an  old  chief  by  the  name  of  Memberton,  a fast  friend  of  the  French, 
and  still  a redoubted  warrior,  though  over  one  hundred  years  of  age.  He  was,  perhaps  ihe 
first  adult  convert  made  by  the  French  missionaries  in  North  America.  Father  La  Fleche  was  tns 
pious  instructor.  “ Memberton  was  first  catechised,”  says  Parkman,  “confessed  his  sins,  and  re- 
nounced the  Devil,  whom,  we  are  told,  he  had  faithfully  served  during  a hundred  and  ten  years. 
His  squaws,  his  children,  his  grandchildren,  his  entire  clan,  were  next  won  over.  It  was  .n 
June,  the  Day  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  when  the  naked  proselytes,  twenty-one  in  number,  were 
gathered  on  the  shore  at  Port  Royal.  Here  was  the  priest  in  the  vestments  of  his  office;  nere 
were  gentlemen  in  gay  attire,  soldiers,  laborers,  lackeys — all  the  infant  colony.  The  converts 
kneeled;  the  sacred  rite  was  finished,  the  TeDeum  was  sung,  and  the  roar  of  cannon  proclaimed 
to  the  astonished  wilderness  this  triumph  over  the  powers  of  darkness.  Memberton  was  named 
Henri,  after  the  King;  his  principal  squaw,  Marie,  after  the  Queen.  One  of  his  sons  received  the 
name  of  the  Pope,  another  that  of  the  Dauphin;  his  daughter  was  called  Marguerite,  after  Mar- 
guerite of  Valois,  and,  in  like  manner,  the  rest  of  the  squalid  company  exchanged  theii  barbaric 
appellations  for  the  names  of  princes,  nobles,  and  ladies  of  rank.” — Pioneers  Qf  France  in  the 
New  World,  p.  254. 

Old  Memberton,  or  Henri,  continued  faithful,  and  died  a devout  Christian. 

• Parkman. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  PRINCE  OF  PIONEERS  IN  CANADA. 

Cfham plaints  love  of  adventure — He  founds  the  city  of 
Quebec— Horn  he  strangled  a conspiracy — Spending  the 
winter  at  Quebec — A woeful  scene  of  destitution — The 
Hurons  and  Algonquins — The  Iroquois — Discovery  of 
Lake  Champlain — A battle  with  the  Iroquois — Home- 
ward bound. 

Turning  away  from  Acadia  and  its  ruined  hopes,  De 
Monts,  at  the  suggestion  of  Champlain,  fixed  his  eyes  on 
Canada.  He  made  his  projects  known  to  Henry  IV.,  and 
solicited  a monopoly  of  the  fur  trade  for  one  year.  His  re- 
quest was  granted.  This  privilege  began  in  January,  1608. 
Many  advantages  were  expected  to  flow  from  establishing  a 
colony  on  the  River  St.  Lawrence. 

Champlain,  at  this  time,  was  in  Paris;  but  his  unquiet 
•thoughts  turned  westward.  He  was  enamored  of  the  New 
World,  whose  rugged  charms  had  seized  his  fancy  and  his 
heart;  and  as  explorers  of  Arctic  Seas  have  pined  in  their 
repose  for  polar  ice  and  snow,  so  did  he,  with  restless  long- 
ing, revert  to  the  fog- wrapped  coasts,  the  piny  odors  of  for- 
ests, the  noise  of  waters,  the  sharp  and  piercing  sunlight, 
BO  dear  to  his  remembrance.  Fain  would  he  unveil  the 
mystery  of  that  boundless  wilderness,  and  plant  the  Catho- 
lic Faith  and  the  power  of  France  amid  its  ancient  barba- 
rism. Five  years  before,  he  had  explored  the  St.  Lawrence 
as  far  as  the  rapids  above  Montreal.  On  its  banks,  as  he 
thought,  was  the  true  site  for  a settlement,  a fortified  post, 
whence,  as  from  a secure  basis,  the  waters  of  the  vast  inte- 


341 


342 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


rior  might  be  traced  back  towards  their  sources,  and  a west- 
ern route  discovered  to  China  and  the  East 
Early  in  the  summer  of  1608,  a vessel  pursued  its  solitary 
course  up  the  St.  Lawrence.  It  was  from  Honlieur,  and  was 
commanded  by  Samuel  de  Champlain.  After  sailing  many 
a league  up  the  lordly  river,  the  hardy  voyagers  came  to  a 
point  where  the  vast  channel  narrows  to  a mile  in  width. 
The  bold  cliffs  of  Quebec  mirrored  their  bare,  rugged  features 
in  the  waters  below.  Here  the  anchor  was  cast  on  the  3d  of 
July,  for  the  keen  eye  of  Champlain  marked  the  wild  but 
picturesque  spot  as  the  site  of  a city — to-day,  the  most  his- 
toric city  in  America.”  “Two  centuries  and  a half,"  says 
Parkman,  “have  quickened  the  solitude  with  swarming  life, 
covered  the  deep  bosom  of  the  river  with  barge  and  steamer 


> Parkman. 

’ The  word  Quebec  is  of  Indian  origin,  and  means  a strait,  or  narrowing  of  the  river.  Tlie 
learned  Abbe  Ferland  writes:  “ Quant  an  mot  Kebbek  (Quebec),  il  n’y  a yas  a douter  qu'il  t.  t 
d'origine  algonquine.  Champlain  et  Lescarbot  le  disent  expressement;  le  premier  le  repele 
jusqu’a  deux  fois.  Dans  les  differents  dialectes  algonquins,  Kepak  ou  Kebbek  signifie  retrecissement 
d’une  riviere.”  ‘Quebec,’  dit  M.  Richer  Lafleche,  ‘veut  dire,  chez  les  Cris  c'est  bouche.  II 
vient  de  Kepak,  temps  indefini  du  verbe  Kipao.’ 

“Voici  ce  qu’ecrivait  a ce  sujet  M.  Jean-Marie  Bellanger,  ancien  missionaire,  un  des  hommes 
de  notre  temps  que  ont  le  mieux  connu  la  langue  des  Micmacs;  ‘ Kebec,  en  micmac,  veut  dire 
retrecissement  des  eaux  formfi  par  deux  langues  ou  pointes  de  terre  qul  se  croisent.  Dans  le 
premiers  temps  que  j’etais  dans  les  missions,  je  descendais  de  Ristigouche  a Carleton;  les  deux 
savages  qui  me  menaient  en  canot,  repetant  souvent  le  mot  Kebec  je  leur  demandai  s’ils  se  pre 
paraient  a aller  bientdt  a Quebec.  Ils  me  repondirent:  Non;  regards  les  deux  pointes  et  Veau  qui 
est  resserree  en  dedans — on  appelle  ceta  Kebec  en  notre  langue." — Cours  d'Histoire  du  Canada, 
Vol.  I.,p.  90. 

Quebec  is  now  the  capital  of  the  Province  of  Quebec.  It  is  180  miles  N.  E.  of  Montreal,  and 
nearly  400  miles  from  the  Gulf  of  St  Lawrence.  Its  population  in  1871  was  59,609;  and  of  these 
52,357  were  Catholics.  It  is  a walled  city,  and  on  account  of  its  massive  fortifications,  has  been 
styled  the  “ Gibraltar  of  America.”  The  ancient  college,  founded  by  the  Jesuit  Fathers  in  1633, 
was  occupied  as  a barrack  by  the  English  troops  after  1812. 

Of  the  great  institutions  in  the  city  founded  by  Champlain,  the  most  famous  is  Laval  LTniver- 
sity.  This  Catholic  seat  of  learning  was  founded  in  1852,  by  the  Seminary  of  Quebec,  which 
was  itself  founded  in  1663,  by  the  venerable  Laval,  first  Bishop  of  Canada.  By  Royal  charter  it 
confers  degree  in  arts,  science,  law  and  medicine  ; and  it  possesses  flourishing  schools  in  each 
of  these  departments.  The  Holy  See  impowered  the  University  to  confer  all  degrees  in  theology; 
and  in  1876.  the  illustrious  Pius  IX,  by  Letters  Apostolic,  raised  it  canonically  to  the  rank,  dig- 
nity, and  privileges  of  a Catholic  University.  It  has  several  of  the  finest  mnseums  and  collections 
for  the  study  of  science  in  America,  besides  a complete  philosophical  apparatus,  chemical  labora- 
tory, herbarium,  splendid  gallery  of  paintings,  and  a library  of  55,000  volumes.  Among  its  dis- 
tinguished professors  have  been  the  Abbe  Ferland,  author  of  Cours  d'Histoire  du  Canada;  Rev. 
Dr.  B.  Paquet,  author  of  Le  Liberalismc;  Rev.  Dr.  Begin,  author  of  La  Primaute  et  V Tnfailllbilite 
du  Souverain  Peyntife;  Abbe  Laverdiere,  editor  of  Relations  des  Jesuites;  Judges  Morin,  Crema- 
zle,  and  others.  The  Very  Rev.  Thomas  E.  Hamel,  M.  A.,  V.G.,  Rector  of  the  University,  is  a 
native  of  Quebec,  and  was  born  in  1830.  He  made  a special  study  of  science  in  France. — "His. 
lory  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  Stales"  p.  465, 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


343 


and  gilding  sail,  and  reared  cities  and  villages  on  the  site  of 
forests,  but  nothing  can  destroy  the  surpassing  grandeur  of 
the  scene  " 

A few  weeks  passed,  and  a pile  of  wooden  buildings  rose 
on  the  brink  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  on  or  near  the  site  of  the 
market  place  of  the  Lower  Town  of  Quebec.  The  pencil  of 
Champlain,  always  regardless  of  proportion  and  perspective, 
has  preserved  its  semblance.  A strong  w’ooden  wall,  sur- 
mounted by  a gallery  loop-holed  for  musketry,  enclosed 
three  buildings,  containing  quarters  for  himself  and  his 
men  together  with  a court- yard,  from  one  side  of  which  rose 
a tall  dove  cot  like  a belfry.  A moat  surrounded  the  whole, 
and  two  or  three  small  cannon  were  planted  on  salient  plat- 
forms towards  the  river.  There  was  a large  magazine  near  at 
hand,  and  a part  of  the  adjacent  ground  was  laid  out  as  a 
garden.  Thus  began  the  oldest  city  on  the  St.  Lawrence, 
^he  future  capital  of  Canada,  and  the  strongest  fortress  in 
the  New  World." 

‘Our  habitation,”  wrote  Champlain,  “is  in  forty-six  and 
a half  degrees  north  latitude  The  country  is  pleasant  and 
beautiful.  It  is  suitable  for  all  sorts  of  grains.  The  forests 
are  stocked  with  every  kind  of  trees.  Fruit  trees  are  plen- 
tiful— wild,  of  course,  none  being  cultivated — as  the  walnut, 
cherry,  plum,  raspberry,  gooseberry,  etc.  The  rivers  produce 
fish  in  abundance,  and  the  quantity  of  game  is  infinite.” 

Scarcely  was  the  corner-store  of  Quebec  laid,  when  a seri- 
ous piece  of  news  came  to  the  ears  of  Champlain.  Several 
base  and  turbulent  spirits  among  the  workmen  were  hatch- 
ing a plot  to  kill  him,  and  to  deliver  the  place  into  the 
hands  of  certain  Spaniards,  then  at  Tadoussac.  All  this 
was  not  to  be  done  for  nothing.  A vagabond  locksmith, 
named  Duval,  was  at  the  head  of  the  movement.  One  of 
the  conspirators,  conscience-smitten,  no  doubt,  discovered 
the  whole  fiendish  affair  to  Champlain. 

> Parkman. 

• Champlain  montra  la  snrete  de  son  coup  d’oeil  non-eculemeutdans  le  choiz  qn’il  fit  d’une  posi- 
tion advantagcnsc  pour  la  fiuure  capitalc  du  Canada,  mais  encore  lorsqne,  pen  de  tempa  aprea, 

L designa  le  site  d'nn  autre  fort  a I'endroit,  qui  eat  devenu  le  centre  de  la  viUe  de  Montreal. — AM 
terland. 


344 


8AM  UEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN 


After  a careful  examination,  rigorous  justice  was  meted 
out  to  the  ringleader,  “ Duval’s  body  swinging  from  a gib- 
bet,” writes  Parkman,  “gave  wholesome  warning  to  those 
he  had  seduced ; and  his  head  was  displayed  on  a pike, 
from  the  highest  roof  of  the  building,  food  tor  birds,  and  a 
lesson  to  sedition.”  This  act  of  vigor  re-established  sub- 
mission among  the  malcontents.  The  other  guilty  ones  ac 
knowledged  their  fault,  and  received  pardon.  And  thus 
ended  a conspiracy  which  placed  the  infant  colony  on  the 
very  verge  of  destruction,  by  menacing  the  days  of  the  only 
man  capable  by  his  prudence  and  marvelous  energy  to  build 
up  such  a vast  enterprise,  surrounded  by  difficulties. 

With  twenty-eight  men,  Champlain  resolved  to  spend  the 
winter  at  Quebec.  The  works  already  begun  progressed  as 
the  fall  passed  away;  but  during  the  long  winter,  all  hands 
found  sufficient  occupation  to  cut  and  carry  fire- wood,  or 
to  battle  with  the  inevitable  scurvy. 

It  seems  that  the  Indians  around  the  new  settlement  were 
a miserable  herd.  Their  laziness  was  nearly  boundless,  ancr 
their  accomplishments  may  be  briefiy  summed  up  by  say- 
ing that  they  were  skilled  liars,  filthy  and  cowardly  in  an  ex- 
treme degree.  With  such  neighbors,  it  is  scarcely  necessary 
to  say  that  Champlain  had  abundant  opportunity  for  the 
exercise  of  his  patience  and  charity. 

On  one  occasion  a group  of  w'retched  beings  was  seen  on 
the  farther  bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  like  wild  animals 
driven  by  famine  to  the  bordei’S  of  the  settlers’  clearing. 
The  river  was  full  of  drifting  ice;  none  could  cross  without 
risk  of  life.  The  Indians  in  their  desperation  made  the  at 
tempt;  and  midway  their  canoes  were  ground  to  atoms 
among  the  tossing  masses.  Agile  as  wild-cats,  they  all 
leaped  upon  a huge  raft  of  ice,  the  squaws  carrying  their 
children  on  their  shoulders,  a feat  at  which  Champlain  mar- 
veled when  he  saw  their  starved  and  emaciated  condition. 
Here  they  began  a wail  of  despair;  when  happily  the  pres- 
sure of  other  masses  thrust  the  sheet  of  ice  against  the 
northern  shore.  Landing,  they  soon  made  their  appearance 
at  the  fort,  worn  to  skeletons  and  horrible  to  look  upon. 


FAMISHED  INDIANS  SEEKING  FOOD  AT  QUEBEC. 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


345 


The  French  gave  them  food,  which  they  devoured  with  a 
frenzied  avidity,  and,  unappeased,  fell  upon  a dead  dog  left 
on  the  snow  by  Champlain  for  two  months  past  as  a bait 
for  foxes.  They  broke  this  carrion  into  fragments,  thawed 
and  devoured  it,  to  the  disgust  of  the  spectators,  who  vainly 
tried  to  prevent  them.‘ 

At  length,  the  ice  drifted  down  the  river,  and  the  sun  of 
May  chased  the  snow  from  hill  and  valley.  The  hardy 
Champlain  and  but  eight  of  his  men  survived  the  winter. 
The  other  twenty  had  succumbed  to  the  grim  fight  with 
scurvy,  and  taken  their  solemn  way  to  the  silent  tomb. 
The  little  French  colony  had,  indeed,  come  to  sit  down  on 
the  banks  of  the  mighty  St.  Lawrence ; but  ere  it  became 
firmly  attached  to  the  soil,  it  was  condemned  to  be  shaken 
by  storms,  to  be  scourged  by  disease,  to  be  tormented  by  the 
Iroquois,  and  to  be  attacked  by  its  neighbors  of  ISTew  England. 
t'Or*  a long  time  it  was  really  on  the  point  of  perishing  ; but, 
aided  by  Providence,  it  gradually  took  firm  root,  and  fin- 
ished by  becoming  naturalized  under  the  rigorous  sky  of 
Canada.’ 

The  summer  came,  and  with  it  fresh  supplies  from  France. 
Champlain  resolved  at  once  to  begin  his  long-meditated  ex- 
plorations, by  which,  like  La  Salle  seventy  years  later,  he 
had  good  hope  of  finding  a way  to  China.  But  there  was  a 
lion  in  the  path.  The  Indian  tribes,  war-hawks  of  the 
wilderness,  to  whom  peace  was  unknown,  infested  with  their 
scalping  parties  the  streams  and  pathways  of  the  forest, 
increasing  ten-fold  its  inseparable  risks.  To  danger  the 
Founder  of  Canada  was  more  than  indifferent,  but  he  pru- 
dently sought  to  make  friends  of  the  red  men  who  roamed 
the  vast  wilderness  that  stretched  along  the  north  side  of 
the  St.  Lawrence. 

At  that  time,  two  great  Indian  families — the  Hurons  and 
Algonquins — ranged  the  woods  of  Canada  and  claimed  pos- 
session of  its  soil.  The  Algonquin  territory  may  be  said  to 
have  extended  from  Quebec  along  to  the  headwaters  of  the 
Ottawa  river ; while  the  Huron  country  lay  south  of  Ceor- 


> Parkman. 


* Ferland. 


^46 


SAMVEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN 


gian  Bay,  within  comparatively  narrow  limits  The  Hurons 
and  Algonquins  were  allies  in  a deadly  struggle  with  the 
Iroquois,  or  Five  Nations.  These  occupied  the  central  pait 
of  the  State  of  New  York,  and  were  famous  warriors,  of 
hardy  mould  and  tierce  disposition. 

The  hour  for  action  on  the  part  of  Champlain  soon  ar- 
rived. An  Algonquin  chief  from  the  wild  banks  of  the  Ot- 
tawa came  to  Quebec,  and  begged  the  commander  to  aid  him 
against  his  enemies,  the  Iroquois.  Champlain  consented, 
and  threw  his  power  on  the  side  of  his  red  neighbors.  War 
and  exploration  were  thus  destined  to  go  hand  in  hand. 

Early  in  the  summer  of  1609,  a war  party  in  high  glee  might 
be  seen  paddling  up  the  St.  Lawrence,  from  Quebec  towards 
some  distant  point.  It  was  a band  of  Huron  anti  Algonquin 
warriors,  and  Champlain  was  in  company.  They  were  on 
their  way  to  attack  the  Mohawks.  Let  us  follow  them : 
On  coming  to  the  Richelieu,'  they  turned,  pursued  their 
course  up  its  channel,  and  entered  the  beautiful  lake  which 
to-day  bears  the  name  or  Champlain.  He  was  the  first 
white  man  who  ga.zed  on  its  crystal  bosom.’ 

A review  of  their  forces  showed  that  they  mustered 
twenty-four  canoes  and  sixty  warriors.  To  these  may  be 
added  Champlain  and  his  two  Frenchmen,  well  armed. 

The  canoes  shot  along  the  waters  of  the  lake,  and,  when 
not  far  from  the  historic  site  of  Crown  Point,  the  allies  fell 
in  with  a party  of  their  enemies.  The  mingled  war-cries 
were  echoed  by  the  neighboring  hills  and  mountains.  Even- 
ing was  casting  its  shade  over  land  and  water.  The  Iro- 
quois landed,  and  spent  the  night  in  active  preparations,  but 
the  Hurons  and  Algonquins  remained  on  the  lake,  their  ca- 
noes being  made  fast  together.  Both  parties  had  agreed 
that  the  fight  should  be  deferred  till  daybreak. 

It  was  the  30th  of  July.  As  day  approached,  Champlain 


• The  Richelieu  river  is  the  outlet  of  Lake  Champlain.  It  falls  into  the  St.  Lawrence  at  the 
town  of  Sorel,  45  miles  below  Montreal.  It  is  about  80  miles  in  length. 

* Lake  Champlain  lies  between  New  York  and  Vermont,  and  extends  from  Whitehall  in  the 
former  State  to  St.  John’s  in  Canada.  It  is  126  miles  long,  and  varies  in  breadth  from  40  rods  to 
15  miles.  It  contains  many  islands  and  is  navigable  throughout  its  whole  extent.  Many  an  his- 
toric scene  lies  along  its  shores.— American  Cydopxdia. 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIM. 


347 


and  his  two  followers  put  on  the  light  armor  of  ttie  time. 
Champlain  wore  the  doublet  and  long  hose  then  in  vogue. 
Over  the  doublet  he  buckled  on  a breastplate,  and  probably 
a back-piece,  while  his  thighs  were  protected  by  cuisses  of 
steel,  and  his  head  by  a plumed  casque.  Across  his  shoul- 
der hung  the  strap  of  his  bandoleer,  or  ammunition-box ; 
at  his  side  was  his  sword,  and  in  his  hand  his  arquebuse,' 
which  he  had  loaded  with  four  balls.  Such  was  the  equip- 
ment of  this  ancient  Indian  fighter,  whose  exploits  date 
eleven  years  before  the  landing  of  the  Puritans  at  Ply- 
mouth, and  sixty-six  years  before  King  Philip’s  War.‘ 

At  the  first  rays  of  the  morning  sun,  the  Hurons  and 
Algonquins  landed,  taking  care  to  conceal  Champlain  and 
his  two  followers  in  the  midst  of  their  ranks.  On  the  other 
side,  about  two  hundred  Iroquois  advanced  from  their  rude 
barricades.  They  were  bold,  fierce-looking  warriors,  and, 
stepped  to  the  battle  ground  with  much  order  and  steadi- 
ness. At  their  head  were  three  chiefs,  whose  long  plumes 
made  them  conspicuous. 

The  contending  hosts  were  soon  face  to  face.  The  allies 
now  opened  their  ranks,  and  loudly  called  on  their  champion 
to  advance.  Champlain  came  to  the  front,  and  only  halted 
about  thirty  steps  from  the  Iroquois.  He  appeared  like  a 
warlike  apparition  in  their  path,  and  they  stood  staring  in 
mute  astonishment  at  the  odd  clothing  and  calm,  dauntless 
bearing  of  the  stranger. 

But  after  a moment’s  hesitation,  however,  they  prepared 
to  attack  the  allies.  Champlain  quickly  raised  his  gun  to 
his  shoulder,  and  took  a well-directed  aim.  Two  of  the 
Iroquois  chiefs  dropped  dead,  and  one  of  the  warriors  was 
mortally  wounded.  Then  arose  a wild  yell  such  as  would 
have  drowned  a thunder-clap,  and  the  air  was  thick  with 
arrows.  Suddenly  the  two  Frenchmen  came  to  the  front, 
and  another  deadly  discharge  of  fire-arms  did  its  work.  The 
Iroquois  broke  and  fled  in  terror,  and  the  victory  was  com- 


' The  arqaebase  was  a match.ock  or  firelock  somewhat  like  the  modem  carbine,  and  from  iti 
shortness  not  iil-aoited  for  use  in  the  forest. — Parkman. 

* Parkman. 


348 


SAMUEL  DE  CEAMPLAIN. 


plete.  The  savage  joy  of  the  Hurons  and  Algonquins  at 
the  speedy  and  triumphant  issue  of  the  conflict  was  inde- 
scribable.* 

The  victors  made  a prompt  retreat  from  the  scene  of  their 
triumph.  Three  or  four  days  brought  them  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Eichelieu.  Here  they  separated  ; the  Hurons  and 
Algonquins  made  for  the  Ottawa — their  homeward  route — 
each  with  a share  of  prisoners  for  future  torments.  At 
parting  they  invited  Champlain  to  visit  their  towns,  and 
aid  them  again  in  their  wars — an  invitation  which  this  pala- 
din of  the  woods  failed  not  to  accept.* 


iTbas  did  New  Franoe  rttsh  Into  oolllelon  with  the  redoubted  warriors  ot  the  Fire  Nations. 
Eere  was  the  beginning— In  some  measure,  doubtless,  the  cause  ot  a long  suite  ot  murderous 
oonElcts,  bearing  havoc  and  flame  to  generations  yet  unborn.  Champlain  had  Invaded  the 
tiger’s  den,  and  now.  In  smothered  tory,  the  imtlent  savage  would  Us,  biding  his  day  ot 
blood. — Parkman. 


CHAPTER  IL. 

HOW  A PATHWAY  TO  CHINA  WAS  NOT  FOTJim. 

Champlan^s  visit  to  France — Returns  to  Canada — The 
attack  on  an  Iroquois  fortress — Meets  two  hundred,  In- 
dians— Death  of  Henry  IV. — Marriage  of  Champlain 
— His  unceasing  toil  and  act  'vity — The  imposter  Du 
Vignon^  and  the  voyage  up  the  Ottawa — Coming  down 
the  stream — Algonquin  fear  of  the  Iroquois — At  the 
Chaudi&re  Falls — In  France. 

Champlain  on  h is  return  to  Quebec,  resolved  to  proceed 
to  France,  in  order  to  render  an  account  to  De  Monts  of  the 
work  which  he  had  accomplished  in  the  wilderness  of  Can- 
ada, during  the  last  twelve  months.  He  sailed  in  the  fall  of 
1609,  in  company  with  Pontgrave,  leaving  as  commandant 
in  his  absence  Captain  Peter  Chauvin, 

The  hero  of  the  Canadian  forests  was  favorably  received 
by  Henry  IV.,  to  whom  he  presented  a belt  wrought  in  em- 
broidery of  the  dyed  quills  of  the  porcupine.  The  lively 
King  listened  with  pleasure  as  Champlain  recounted  his  ex- 
peditions and  adventures  by  lake,  and  land,  and  rushing 
river.  The  stay  in  France,  however,  was  brief.  Early  in 
the  spring  of  1610,  he  again  put  to  sea,  and  soon  reached 
Quebec.  He  found  his  men  in  excellent  health  and  spirits. 

Nor  did  Champlain  take  a moment’s  rest.  He  longed 
to  explore  the  unknown  solitudes.  He  was  met  by  Indian 
deputations.  He  was  earnestly  sought,  as  a valuable 
ally.  He  was  both  to  fight  and  to  explore,  but,  to  usf 
his  own  words,  he  had  “two  strings  to  his  bow.”  The  Ah 
gonquins  promised  to  guide  him  to  Hudson  Bay,  the  Hurons 
said  they  would  show  him  the  Great  Lakes,  with  the  mines 
of  copper  on  their  shores;  and  to  each  the  same  reward  was 

349 


350 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


promised— to  join  them  against  the  common  foe,  the  deadly 
Iroquois.  The  rendezvous  was  at  the  mouth  of  the  River 
Richelieu,  and  thither  Champlain  now  repaired.' 

It  was  past  the  middle  of  June  when  the  ever-active  ex- 
plorer reached  the  point  of  destination.  He  was  accompanied 
by  four  of  his  men,  and,  as  for  Algonquin  warriors,  they  were 
in  abundance.  Suddenly  a war-cry  was  raised.  A party  of 
Algonquins  had  discovered  about  one  hundred  Iroquois 
strongly  entrenched  in  the  woods  at  some  distance  away. 
The  enemy  had  formed  a circular  barricade  by  means  of 
large  fallen  trees,  with  the  branches  crossed  and  interlaced. 
With  wild  yells  the  savages  rushed  to  attack  this  wooden 
fortress. 

Champlain  and  his  men  were  left  behind  in  the  race  ; and 
without  waiting  for  them,  the  Algonquin  warriors  charged 
the  Iroquois  entrenchments.  They  were  very  warmly  re- 
ceived, and  were  far  from  having  made  any  progress  when 
Champlain  appeared  on  the  scene.  A shout  now  arose  that 
resounded  for  miles  th  rough  the  unbroken  forests,  and  the 
attack  was  renewed  with  desperation  as  the  allies  surrounded 
the  enclosure.  The  Iroquois  fought  like  tigers ; but  again 
the  gun  did  its  work.  Even  the  fierce  Mohawk  quailed  be- 
fore the  destructive  fire  of  the  white  man ; the  barricades 
were  scaled,  and  the  awful  work  of  carnage  soon  terminated. 
“By  the  grace  of  God,”  wrote  Champlain,  “behold  the  bat- 
tle won!”  But  he  did  not  escape  unharmed.  A stone- 
headed arrow  had  split  his  ear,  and  torn  its  way  through 
the  muscles  of  his  neck. 

The  next  day  a reinforcement  of  two  hundred  Hurons 
and  Algonquins  arrived,  under  the  command  of  a famous 
chief  called  Iroquet.  In  harsh,  guttural  tones  the  newcomers 
loudly  expressed  regret  at  not  being  in  time  to  take  part  in 
the  recent  fight  with  the  Mohawks ; but  their  joy  was  un- 
bounded at  seeing  for  the  first  time  the  Europeans  of  whom 
they  had  heard  go  much.  The  rude  son  of  the  forest  viewed 
the  hardy,  courteous,  and  adventurous  son  of  France,  with  his 
strange  dress,  strange  appearance  and  stranger  weapons,  a.<5  a 


* Parkman. 


HAMUKL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


351 


wonderful  human  curiosity—  in  short, a most  mysterious  being. 

Before  bidding  adieu  to  his  dusky  friends,  Champlain  re- 
quested the  chief,  Iroquet,  to  take  with  him  a young  French- 
man, who  was  to  visit  the  lakes,  rivers,  and  mines,  and  at 
the  same  time,  learn  the  Indian  tongue.  The  chief  not  only 
consented,  but  promised  to  treat  the  young  man  as  his 
own  son;  and,  in  return,  Champlain  took  with  him  and 
carried  to  Paris  a young  Huron,  to  whom  he  gave  the  name 
of  Savignon. 

When  Champlain  reached  Quebec,  he  heard  sad  news. 
Henry  IV.  had  fallen  under  the  knife  of  an  assassin.  The 
royal  friend  who  had  smiled  on  all  his  enterprises  was  no 
more.  He  at  once  hastened  to  France  in  the  interest  of  the 
colony. 

At  this  time  there  lived  at  Paris  a gifted  and  beautiful 
girl.  Mile.  Helena  Boulle,  daughter  of  Nicholas  Boulle, 
Secretary  of  the  Royal  Chamber.  She  was  but  twelve  years 
of  age,  and  was  destined  to  be  Champlain’s  bride.  The  mar- 
riage took  place  early  in  1611.  The  hardy  veteran  of  sea  and 
land  not  only  loved  his  child- wife,  but  became  her  in- 
structor, and  had  the  glory  of  making  her  a pious  and  sin- 
cere Catholic.  She  had  been  secretly  brought  up  a Protest- 
ant— a fact  unknown  to  him  for  some  time.  God  blessed 
them,  and  to  the  end  they  were  most  happy  companions. 
On  account  of  her  extreme  youth,  however,  Champlain  left 
his  wife  to  reside  at  Paris,  near  her  parents;  and  ten  years 
passed  away  before  she  followed  him  to  Canada  to  share  his 
toils  and  his  hardships. 

In  May,  1611,  Champlain  Avas  again  in  Quebec,  passed  up 
the  river,  and,  within  the  present  limits  of  the  city  of  Mon- 
treal, cleared  a piece  of  ground  as  a site  for  a trading  post. 
He  called  it  Place  Royale.’  He  had  many  a long  conference 
with  the  Indians,  and  on  one  occasion  he  made  the  experi- 
ment of  shooting  St.  Louis  Rapids  in  a birch-bark  canoe.’ 


• The  hospital  of  the  Gray  Nans  was  bailt  on  a portion  of  Champlain's  Place  Royale.— 
Parkman. 

’ The  ftrst  white  man  to  descend  the  rapids  of  St.  Lonis  was  a youih  who  had  volunteered,  the  pre- 
vious summer,  to  go  with  the  Hurons  to  their  country  and  winter  among  them — a prop08;il  to 
which  Champlain  gladly  assented.  The  second  was  ayoaug  man  named  Lonis,  who  had  gone  up 


362 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


A few  months  later  we  find  him  in  France.  In  spite  of 
all  his  efforts,  the  little  colony  in  Canada  was  fading  away. 
He  alone  was  its  life  and  soul.'  But  something  more  was 
necessary.  Another  was  wanted.  A powerful  protector 
must  be  had — a great  name  to  shield  the  enterprise  from 
assaults  and  intrigues  of  jealous  rival  interests.  On  reach- 
ing Paris,  he  addressed  himself  to  a prince  of  the  blood, 
Charles  of  Bourbon,  Comte  de  Soissons ; described  New 
France,  its  resources,  its  boundless  .extent,  urged  the  need 
of  unfolding  a mystery  pregnant  perhaps  with  results  of 
the  deepest  moment,  laid  before  him  maps  and  memoirs, 
and  begged  him  to  become  the  guardian  of  this  new  world. 
The  royal  consent  being  obtained,  the  Comte  de  Soissons 
became  Lieutenant-General  for  the  King  in  New  France, 
with  vice-regal  powers.  These,  in  turn,  he  conferred  upon 
Champlain,  making  him  his  lieutenant,  with  full  control 
over  the  trade  in  fuis  at  and  above  Quebec,  and  with  power 
to  associate  with  himself  such  persons  as  he  saw  fit,  to  aid 
in  the  exploration  and  settlement  of  the  country.’ 

Again  Champlain  is  on  the  Atlantic,  with  the  prow  of  his 
vessel  turned  towards  the  New  World.  He  arrived  at  Que- 
bec in  May,  1613,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  two  years,  dur- 
ing which  he  had  been  unceasingly  occupied  in  furthering 
the  interests  of  the  little  colony.  He  found  all  in  excellent 
health,  a proof  of  the  salubrity  of  the  climate. 

It  had  long  been  the  desire  of  Champlain  to  penetrate  the 
great  country  of  the  west.  One  of  his  men,  named  Nicholas 
du  Vignon,  had  passed  a winter  with  the  Algonquins  of  the 
Ottawa.  He  came  back  with  a tale  of  wonders;  for,  writes 
Champlain,  ‘ ‘ he  was  the  most  impudent  liar  that  has  been 
seen  for  many  a day.” 

He  averred  that  at  the  sources  of  the  Ottawa  he  had 
found  a great  lake,  that  he  had  crossed  it,  and  discovered  a 
river  flowing  northwards;  that  he  had  descended  this  river, 

with  Indians  to  an  island  in  the  rapids,  to  shoot  herons,  and  was  drotvned  in  the  descent.  The 
third  was  Champlain  himself  — Parkman. 

‘ Since  the  death  of  Henry  rv.,  De  Monts  had  lost  all  the  inilaence  which  he  had  before  pos- 
sessed at  Conrt. — Abbe  Ferland. 

’ Parkman. 


SAMUEL  BE  CRAMPLAIN. 


353 


and  reached  the  shores  of  the  sea;  that  here  he  had  seen 
the  wreck  of  an  English  ship,  whose  crew,  escaping  to  land, 
had  been  killed  by  the  Indians;  and  that  this  sea  was  dis- 
tant from  Montreal  only  seventeen  days  by  canoe.  The 
clearness,  consistency,  and  apparent  simplicity  of  his  story 
deceived  Champlain.’ 

Anxious  to  set  out  on  the  path  of  discovery,  the  illustri- 
ous explorer  left  the  isle  of  St.  Helena’  in  May,  with  two 
canoes,  four  Frenchmen,  and  an  Indian.  They  passed  over 
. Lake  St.  Louis,  and  entered  the  Ottawa  river.  Champlain 
recounts  his  voyage  with  such  clearness  that,  among  the 
many  details  given,  it  is  still  quite  easy  to  recognize  the 
spots  which  he  visited.  His  description  of  the  picturesque 
site  of  the  present  city  of  Ottawa  is,  indeed,  most  accurate. 

Pushing  along  his  rugged  way,  he  came  to  the  Isle  des 
Allumettes,  the  principal  seat  of  the  Algonquin  nation. 
Nothing  can  picture  the  astonishment  of  the  dusky  horde, 
when  they  saw  Champlain — the  “great  French  war-captain.” 
Warriors  stood  in  amazement,  squaws  stared,  and  naked 
children  ran  away.  A chief  offered  the  calumet,  exclaiming: 
“These  white  men  must  have  fallen  from  the  clouds.  How 
else  could  they  have  reached  us  through  the  woods  and 
rapids  which  even  we  find  it  hard  to  pass?  The  French 
chief  can  do  anything.  All  that  we  have  heard  of  him 
must  be  true.” 

After  a repast  of  fish,  Champlain  hastened  to  pay  his  re- 
spects to  Tessouat,  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  the  Algon- 
quin chiefs.  Tessouat  was  astonished  and  overjoyed.  He 
gave  expressions  to  his  feelings  of  unusual  delight  by  mak- 
ing a solemn  feast.  All  the  neighboring  chiefs  were  Invited, 
and  the  cabin  was  well  swept. 

The  singular  ceremony  and  what  followed  it  cannot  be 
better  described  than  in  the  picturesque  language  of  Park- 
man.  Champlain  and  his  Frenchmen,  writes  the  prince  of 
American  word-painters,  were  seated  on  skins  in  the  place 

' Parkman. 

’ A little  island  In  the  St.  Lawrence,  near  the  city  of  Montreal.  Champlain  named  it  in  honor 
of  hia  wife. 


354 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


of  honor,  and  the  naked  gueets  appeared  in  quick  succes- 
sion, each  with  his  wooden  dish  and  spoon,  and  each  ejacu- 
lating his  guttural  salute  as  he  stooped  at  the  low  door.  The 
spacious  cabin  was  full.  The  congregated  wisdom  and 
prowess  of  the  nation  sat  expectant  on  the  bare  earth. 
Each  long  bare  arm  thrust  forth  its  dish  in  turn,  as  the  host 
served  out  the  banquet,  in  which,  as  courtesy  enjoined,  he 
himself  was  to  have  no  share. 

First,  a mess  of  pounded  maize,  wherein  were  boiled,  with- 
out salt,  morsels  of  fish  and  dark  scraps  of  meat;  then,  fish, 
and  flesh  broiled  on  the  embers,  with  a kettle  of  cold  water 
from  the  river.  Champlain,  in  his  wise  distrust  of  Ottawa 
cookery,  confined  himself  to  the  simpler  and  less  doubtful 
viands.  A few  minutes,  and  all  alike  had  vanished.  The 
kettles  were  empty. 

Then  pipes  were  filled  and  touched  with  fire  brought  in 
by  che  duteous  squaws,  while  the  young  men  who  had  stood 
thronged  about  the  entrance  now  modestly  withdrew,  and 
the  door  was  closed  for  counsel.  First,  the  pipes  were 
passed  to  Champlain.  Then,  for  full  half  an  hour,  the  as- 
sembly smoked  in  silence.  At  length,  when  the  fitting  time 
was  come,  he  addressed  them  in  a speech  in  which  he  de- 
clared that,  moved  by  affection,  he  visited  their  country  to 
see  its  richness  and  its  beauty,  and  to  aid  them  in  their 
wars;  and  he  now  begged  them  to  furnish  him  with  four 
canoes  and  eight  men  to  convey  him  to  the  country  of  the 
Nipissings,  a tribe  dwelling  northward  on  the  lake  which 
bears  their  name. 

His  audience  looked  grave,  for  they  were  but  cold  and 
jealous  friends  of  the  Nipissings.  For  a time  they  dis- 
coursed in  murmuring  tones  among  themselves,  all  smok- 
ing meanwhile  with  redoubled  vigor.  Then  Tessonat,  chief 
of  these  forest  republicans,  rose  and  spoke  in  behalf  of  all: 

•‘We  always  knew  you  for  our  best  friend  among  the 
Frenchmen.  We  love  you  like  our  own  children.  But  why 
did  you  break  your  woi  d with  us  last  year,  when  we  all  went 
down  to  meet  you  at  Montreal,  to  give  you  presents  and  go 
with  you  to  war?  You  were  not  there,  but  other  French- 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


365 


men  were  there,  who  abused  us.  We  will  never  go  again. 
As  for  the  four  canoes,  you  shall  have  them,  if  you  insist 
upon  it ; but  it  grieves  us  to  think  of  the  hardships  you  must 
endure.  The  Nipissings  have  weak  hearts — they  are  good 
for  nothing  in  war,  but  they  kill  us  with  charms,  and  they 
poison  us.  Therefore  we  are  on  bad  terms  with  them.  They 
will  kill  you,  too.” 

Such  was  the  pith  of  Tessouat’s  discourse,  and  at  each 
clause  the  conclave  responded  in  unison  with  an  approving 
grunt. 

Champlain  urged  his  petition ; sought  to  relieve  their 
tender  scruples  in  his  behalf ; assured  them  that  he  was 
charm-proof,  and  that  he  feared  no  hardships.  At  length 
he  gained  his  point.  The  canoes  and  the  men  were  promised, 
and  seeing  himself,  as  he  thought,  on  the  highway  to  his 
phantom  Northern  Sea,  he  left  his  entertainers  to  their 
pipes,  and  with  a light  heart  issued  from  the  close  and  smoky 
den  to  breathe  the  fresh  air  of  the  afternoon.  He  visited 
the  Indian  fields,  with  their  young  crops  of  pumpkins,  beans, 
and  French  peas — the  last  a novelty  obtained  from  the  trad- 
ers. Here,  Thomas,  the  interpreter,  soon  joined  him  with  a 
countenance  of  ill  news.  In  the  absence  of  Champlain,  the 
assembly  had  reconsidered  their  assent.  The  canoes  were 
denied. 

With  a troubled  mind  he  hastened  again  to  the  hall  of 
council,  and  addressed  the  naked  senate  in  terms  better 
suited  to  his  exigencies  than  to  their  dignity : 

“I  thought  you  were  men.  I thought  you  would  hold 
fast  to  your  word;  but  I find  you  children,  without  truth. 
You  call  yourselves  my  friends,  yet  you  break  faith  with 
me.  Still,  I would  not  incommode  you  ; and  if  you  cannot 
give  me  four  canoes,  two  will  serve.” 

The  burden  of  the  reply  was,  rapids,  rocks,  cataracts,  and 
the  wickedness  of  the  Nipissings. 

“This  young  man,”  rejoined  Champlain,  pointing  to 
Vignon,  who  sat  by  his  side,  “has  been  to  their  country, 
and  did  not  find  the  road  or  the  people  so  bad  as  you  have 
said.” 


. 856 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


“Nicholas,”  demanded  Tessouat,  “did  you  say  that  you 
had  been  to  the  Nipissings?” 

The  impostor  sat  mute  for  a time,  then  replied : 

“Yes,  I have  been  there.” 

Hereupon  an  outcry  broke  forth  from  the  assembly,  and 
their  small,  deep-set  eyes  were  turned  on  him  askance,  “as 
if.”  says  Champlain,  “they  would  have  tom  and  eaten  him.”' 

“You  are  a liar,  ” returned  the  unceremcnious  host; 
“you  know  very  well  that  you  slept  here  among  my  chil- 
dren every  night  and  rose  again  every  morning;  and  if  you 
ever  went  where  you  pretend  to  have  gone,  it  muse  have 
been  when  you  were  asleep.  How  can  you  be  so  impudent 
as  to  lie  to  your  chief,  and  so  wicked  as  to  risk  his  life  among 
so  many  dangers  ? He  ought  to  kill  you  with  tortures  worse 
than  those  with  which  we  kill  our  enemies.” 

Champlain  urged  him  to  reply,  but  he  sat  motionless 
and  dumb.  Then  he  led  him  from  the  cabin  and  con- 
jured him  to  declare  if,  in  truth,  he  had  seen  this  Sea  of 
the  North.  Vignon,  with  oaths,  affirmed  that  all  he  had  said 
was  true.  Returning  to  the  council,  Champlain  repeated  his 
story — how  he  had  seen  the  sea,  the  wreck  of  an  English 
ship,  eight  English  scalps,  and  an  English  boy,  prisoner 
among  the  Indians. 

At  this,  an  outcry  rose,  louder  than  before.  “You  are  a 
liar!”  “Which  way  did  you  go?”  “By  what  rivers?” 
“By  what  lakes?”  ‘ ‘Who  went  with  you?” 

Vignon  had  made  a map  of  his  travels,  which  Champlain 
now  produced,  desiring  him  to  explain  it  to  his  questioners; 
but  his  assurance  had  failed  him,  and  he  could  not  utter  a 
word. 

Champlain  was  greatly  agitated.  His  hopes  and  his  heart 
were  in  the  enterprise;  his  reputation  was  in  a measure  at 
stake ; and  now,  when  he  thought  his  triumph  so  near,  he 
shrank  from  believing  himself  the  sport  of  an  impostor. 
The  council  broke  up;  the  Indians  displeased  and  moody  ; 
and  he,  on  his  part,  full  of  anxieties  and  doubts.  At 
length,  one  of  the  canoes  being  ready  for  departure,  the 
time  of  decision  came,  and  he  called  Vignon  before  him. 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


357 


“If  you  have  deceived  me,  confess  it  nCfW,  and  cii6  pas 
shall  be  forgiven.  But  if  you  persis'^  jou  will  be  di>30&¥ 
ered;  and  then  you  shall  be  hangea. 

Vignon  pondered  for  a moment}  then  fell  on  Ms  knees 
owned  his  treachery,  and  begged  for  mercy.  Champlaii 
broke  into  a rag^^^  and,  unable,  as  bd  says,  to  endure  th( 
sight  of  Mm,  ordered  him  from  Ms  presence,  and  sent  th( 
interpreter  after  him  to  make  further  examination.  Vanity 
the  love  of  notoriety,  and  the  hope  of  reward,  seem  to  havt 
been  his  inducements;  for  he  had,  in  truth,  spent  a 
winter  in  Tessouat’s  cabin,  Ms  nearest  approach  io  the 
Northern  Sea;  and  he  had  Ottered  himself  that  he  migh 
escape  the  necessity  of  guiding  Ms  command"?  to  this 
tended  discovery. 

The  Indians  were  somewhat  exultant.  “Why  did  yofc 
not  listen  to  chiefs  and  warriors,  instead  of  believing  the 
lies  of  this  fellowr’  And  they  counseled  Champlain  tc 
have  him  killed  at  once,  adding  that  they  would  save  ther 
friends  trouble  by  taking  that  office  upon  themselves/ 

Thus  vanished  the  dear  hopes  of  finding  a way  to  CMna 
and  the  Indies.  Champlain,  however,  possessed  his  soul  ir 
patience,  and  turned  to  pursue  his  route  homewards,  adowr 
the  rapid  current  of  the  Ottawa.  He  was  accompanied  by  £ 
part  of  Tessouat’s  people,  who  were  bound  for  Montreal  for 
the  purpose  of  trading.  As  the  band  descended,  the  fleet  of 
canoes  grew  larger  and  larger.  When  about  ten  or  twelve 
leagues  below  the  Isle  des  AUumettes,  all  stopped  to  add  to 
their  stock  of  fresh  provisions.  Fish  was  in  abundance 
here.  But  towards  the  middle  of  the  night  the  dusky 
fishers  grew  alarmed.  It  was  suddenly  announced  that  four 
canoes  of  the  enemy  were  seen  at  a distance.  Nor  was  the 
fact  improbable,  as  the  Iroquois  were  swift  and  mighty 
hunters,  skilled  alike  in  chasing  beast  and  man. 

Three  canoes  were  immediately  dispatched  to  reconnoitre, 
but  could  discover  nothing.  Still,  a cloud  of  fear  hung 
over  the  voyagers,  and  while  the  warriors  slept  on  the 
ground,  the  squaws,  little  reassured,  remained  in  the  canoes. 

• " Pioneen?  of  France  in  the  New  World.” 


358 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


Just  before  daybreak,  one  of  the  Indiana  in  his  uneasy 
slumber  dreamed  that  they  were  attacked  by  the  Iroquois. 
He  jumped  up,  yelling  that  he  was  killed,  and  sprang  for 
the  water.  His  frightened  companions,  hearing  his  shouts, 
also  leaped  up  in  terror,  and  sprang  into  the  river.  The 
noise  alarmed  the  French,  who  were  sleeping  at  some  dis- 
tance. They  hastened  to  the  spot ; but  what  was  their  sur- 
prise on  seeing  the  Algonquins  tumbling  about  in  the  water, 
some  up  to  their  necks,  and  shouting  without  any  apparert 
cause.  The  scene  was  one  worthy  of  a crowd  of  roaring, 
half- drowned  lunatics. 

Having  found  out  the  cause  of  the  uproar,  Champlain  re- 
established tranquillity  among  the  savages,  and  laughed  ' ne 
1 3rror  panic  away.  Such  was  the  fear  inspired  by  th(  j'o 
quois  throughout  the  whole  country  that  ludicrous  s ,mes 
of  this  kind  were  not  uncommon  among  the  Algonquin 
tribes. 

When  day  came  the  fleet  of  canoes  was  again  in  merlon 
At  the  Chaudiere  Falls'  Champlain  was  present  at  a cere 
mony  which  the  Indians  never  omitted.  The  passage  at 
this  point  became  doubly  dangerous.  The  waters  -‘.ot  only 
plunged  down  with  violence,  but  it  was  a favorit  spot  for 
Iroquois  ambuscades. 

Having  carried  their  canoes  to  the  bottom  of  ti  /j,  cataract, 
all  the  voyagers  assembled.  They  stood  in  a circle.  A 
w'ooden  plate  was  passed  around,  and  each  depo/ji^ed  on  it  a 
small  piece  of  tobacco.  The  collection  made,  they  danced 
and  sang  around  the  plate.  A harangue  was  pronounced. 
Then  all  followed  to  see  the  tobacco  thrown  into  the  falls, 
and  this  offering  to  the  guardian  Manitou  was  accompanied 
by  a general  and  prolonged  shout.  To  pass  down  without 
making  the  accustomed  gift  would  be  to  insult  the  Mi  nitou 
and  call  forth  his  sure  vengeance ! 

On  his  return  to  the  St.  Louis  Rapids,  Champlain  became 
convinced  that  nothing  more  could  be  done  during  the 


> The  Chandiere  Falls  now  stand  at  the  western  extremity  of  the  city  of  Ottawa,  the  capital  of 
the  Dominion  of  Canada.  The  waters  plunge  forty  feei,  partly  disappear  by  an  underground 
jMssage,  the  outlet  of  which  ts  nnknewn. 


SAMUEL  DE  GUAMPLAIN. 


869 


coming  winter,  and  decided  to  proceed  to  France,  where  his 
presence  would  prove  useful  in  furthering  interests  of 
the  colony.  He  kept  his  word  with  Du  Vignon,  left  the 
scoundrel  unpunished,  bade  farewell  to  the  Indians,  em- 
barked in  a trading  vessel,  and  in  the  fall  of  1613  stood 
once  more  on  the  soil  of  la  belle  France.  Under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  Prince  of  Conde  he  labored  to  form  a powerful 
trading  company  composed  of  the  merchants  of  St.  Malo 
and  Rouen.  After  many  difficulties  his  scheme  was  crowned 
with  success,  and  the  company  was  duly  constituted  for 
eleven  years,  with  the  approval  of  the  King  and  the  Prince 
of  Conda 


chapter  IV 

B^KX^IOlyi  THE  WitPjJSNESS. 

iihamptm'yi  chs  a miss'conary — Thef^rs^  priests  in  Vanaaa 
— Mass  at  ^ebec— Beginning  o/  the  Canadian  mis- 
sions— Father  Bolheau — Father  he  Caron — Voyage  lo 
the  Huron  country—  Champlain  again  on  the  war-path 
--The  Huron  Natim — The  first  Mass  in  Upper  Canada 
—The  march  for  the  lojnd  of  the  Iroquois— ~A  picture 
of  early  warfare — The  r^durn  to  Canada-  - Wintering 
among  the  savages — State  of  affairs  at  Quebec — Other 
important  events^Madame  de  Champlain  eomes  tc 
Quebec. 

“The  salvation  of  a single  soul,”  writes  the  noble  oham- 
plain,  “is  worth  more  than  the  conquest  of  an  empire,  and 
kings  should  seek  to  extend  their  dominions  in  countries 
where  idolatry  reigns,  only  to  cause  their  submission  to 
Jesus  Christ.”  And  he  adds,  that  he  undertook  his  Cana- 
dian toils  and  labors  with  patience,  in  order  “to  plant  in 
this  country  the  standard  of  the  Cross,  and  to  teach  the 
knowledge  of  God  and  the  glory  of  His  Holy  Name,  desir- 
ing to  increase  charity  for  his  unfortunate  creatures.” 

The  favorable  circumstances  of  the  colony  now  convinced 
Champlain  that  the  proper  time  had  arrived  to  invite  mis- 
sionaries to  visit  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  reviving  and  sustaining  the  Faith  among  the  French 
and  of  preaching  the  Gospel  to  the  dusky  sons  of  the  for- 
est. He  would  fain  rescue  from  perdition  a people  living, 
as  he  says,  “like  brute  beasts,  without  faith,  without  law, 
without  religion,  without  God.” 

To  accomplish  such  a sublime  enterprise,  he  “sought  out 
some  good  Religious,  who  would  have  zeal  and  affection  for 
360 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


361 


God’s  glory.”  As  those  who  earnestly  seek  always  find,  so 
Champlain  did  not  look  in  vain  for  apostolic  men.  Four 
Franciscan  Fathers  offered  their  services,  but  as  they  “were 
as  weak  in  resources  as  Champlain  himself,”  to  use  the 
words  of  Parkman,  “he  repaired  to  Paris,  then  filled  with 
bishops,  cardinals,  and  nobles  assembled  for  the  States- 
General.  Responding  to  his  appeal,  they  subscribed  fifteen 
hundred  livres  for  the  purchase  of  vestments,  candles,  and 
ornaments  for  altars.  The  Pope  authorized  the  mission,  and 
the  King  gave  letters-patent  in  its  favor.” 

The  four  religious  pioneers  named  for  the  Canadian  mis- 
sion were  Fathers  Denis  Jamet,  John  Dolbeau,  Joseph  Le 
Caron,  and  Brother  Pacific  du  Plessis — men  “who  were 
borne  away  by  holy  affection,  who  burned  to  make  tkis  voy- 
age, if  so,  by  God’s  grace,  they  might  gain  some  fruit,  and 
might  plant  in  these  lands  the  standard  of  Jesus  Christ, 
with  fixed  resolution  to  live,  and  if  need  were,  to  die,  for 
His  Sacred  Name.’” 

The  necessary  preparations  for  departure  being  made, 
“each  of  us,”  to  quote  once  more  the  words  of  Champlain, 
“examined  himself  and  purged  himself  of  his  sins  by  peni- 
tence and  confession,  so  as  best  to  say  adieu  to  France,  and 
to  place  himself  in  a state  of  grace,  that  each  might  be  con- 
scientiously free  to  give  himself  up  in  the  keeping  of  God, 
and  to  the  billows  of  a vast  and  perilous  sea.” 

Champlain  ordered  the  sails  to  be  spread,  and  the  good 
ship  stood  out  to  sea,  leaving  Honfleur  in  April,  1615. 
Quebec  was  reached  towards  the  end  of  May.  A little  con- 
vent and  chapel  were  erected  for  the  missionaries,  and  on  the 
25th  of  J une,  Father  Dolbeau  had  the  happiness  of  celebrating 
the  first  Mass  ever  said  in  the  rude  rock-built  capital  of  the 
little  colony.” 

‘ Champlain. 

’ The  Franciscans,  \^Tites  Parkman,  made  an  altar,  ancf  celebrated  the  first  Mass  ever  said  i* 
Canada.  Dolbeau  was  the  officiating  priest;  all  New  Prance  kneeled  on  the  bare  earth  around 
him,  and  cannon  from  the  ship  and  me  ramparts  hailed  the  mystic  rfte. — ''Pioneers  of  Prance  in 
the  Xew  iVorld,"  p.  360. 

The  Abbe  Ferland  does  not  appear  to  think  that  this  was  the  first  Mass  celebrated  in  Canada. 
He  writes: 

Le  vingt-cinq  join,  1615,  le  P.  Dolbeau  ent  le  bonhner  de  dire  la  premiere  messe  qui  ait  etf 
ueMbree  & Quebec  depute  lee  voyagee  de  Cartier  et  de  SobervcU. — "Cours  D'ERetoire  du  Canada," 
p.  1*0,  Vol.  I. 


362 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAliW 


“Nothing  was  wanting,”  writes  Father  Le  Clercq,  “to 
render  this  action  solemn,  as  far  as  the  simplicity  of  the  infant 
colony  would  permit.  . . . All  made  their  confessions  and 
received  Holy  Communion.  The  Te  Deum  was  chanted,  and 
its  sounds  mingled  with  the  roar  of  the  artillery  and  the 
acclamations  of  joy,  which  were  re-echoed  by  the  surrounding 
solitudes,  of  which  it  might  be  said  that  they  were  changed 
into  a paradise,  all  therein  invoking  the  King  of  Heaven, 
and  calling  to  their  aid  the  guardian  angels  of  these  vast 
provinces.” 

A month  after.  Mass  was  celebrated  regularly  every  Sun- 
day at  Quebec.  Truly  it  was  a grand  and  beautiful  day  for 
Champlain  and  for  the  colonists  who  clustered  around  him 
in  the  poor  little  chapel  of  Quebec,  as  they  assisted  for  the 
first  time  at  the  Holy  Sacrifice  on  the  banks  of  the  mighty 
St.  Lawrence.  This  was  the  beginning  of  Catholicity  in 
Canada.  During  a century  and  a half  the  church  of  Quebec 
was  the  center  and  almost  only  focus  of  the  Faith  in  the 
immense  regions  which  extended  from  Hudson’s  Bay  to  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico. 

Each  Father  began  the  work  assigned  him.  It  was  a 
vast  field,  with  few  laborers.  The  Huron  mission  fell  to  Le 
Caron.  Dolbeau  was  charged  with  the  roving  bands  of 
Algonquins  below  Quebec.  For  the  present  Jamet  and  Du 
Plessis  were  to  remain  at  Quebec.  Let  us  glance  for  a mo- 
ment along  the  thorny  pathway  of  Dolbeau  and  Le  Caron — 
the  pioneer  missionaries  of  Canada.  The  picture  is  from  a 
non-Catholic  pen. 

“Dolbeau,  full  of  zeal,”  wi’ites  Francis  Parkman,  “set 
out  for  his  post,  and,  in  the  next  winter,  essayed  to  follow 
the  roving  hordes  of  Tadoussac  to  their  frozen  hunting- 
grounds.  He  was  not  robust,  and  his  eyes  were  weak. 
Lodged  in  a hut  of  birch  bark,  full  of  abominations,  dogs, 
fleas,  stench,  and  all  uncleanliness,  he  succumbed  at  length 
to  the  smoke,  which  well-nigh  blinded  him,  forcing  him  to 
remain  for  several  days  with  his  eyes  closed.  After  debat- 


' “ Establissement  de  la  Poy,”  I.,  62. 

The  Catholic  colony  of  Maryland  was  the  only  exception. 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


368 


ing  within  himself  whether  God  required  of  him  the  oacri- 
fice  of  his  sight,  he  solved  his  doubts  with  a negative,  and 
returned  to  Quebec,  only  to  set  forth  again  with  opening 
spring  on  a tour  so  extensive, that  it  brought  him  in  contact 
with  the  outlying  bands  of  the  Esquimaux. 

“ Meanwhile  Le  Caron  had  long  been  absent  on  a mission 
of  more  noteworthy  adventure.  While  his  brethren  were 
building  their  convent  and  garnishing  their  altar  at  Quebec, 
the  ardent  Friar  had  hastened  to  the  site  of  Montreal,  then 
thronged  with  a savage  concourse,  come  down  to  the  yearly 
trade.  He  mingled  with  them,  studied  their  manners,  tried 
to  learn  their  languages;  and  when,  soon  after,  Champlain 
and  Pontgrave  arrived,  he  declared  his  purpose  of  win- 
tering in  their  villages.  Dissuasion  availed  nothing. 
‘What,'  he  demanded,  ‘are  privations  to  him  whose  life 
is  devoted  to  perpetual  poverty,  who  has  no  ambition  but 
to  serve  God?’  ” ' 

The  assembled  Hurons  and  Algonquins  begged  Cham- 
plain to  aid  them  against  the  common  enemy,  the  Iroquois. 
He  consented,  promising  to  join  them  with  all  the  men  at 
his  command.  The  Indians  were  to  muster  without  delay 
twenty  five  hundred  men,  and  the  fierce  enemy  would  soon 
feel  the  power  of  such  a formidable  combination.  To  has- 
ten preparations,  Champlain  proceeded  to  Quebec,  while  the 
Indians  awaited  his  return.  But  they  soon  grew  impatient 
of  delay,  and  hastened  to  their  villages,  accompanied  by  the 
indefatigable  Father  Le  Caron.  The  voyage  was  long  and 
painful. 

“It  would  be  hard  to  tell  you,”  the  apostolic  priest 
writes  to  a friend,  “how  tired  I was  with  paddling  all  day, 
with  all  my  strength,  among  the  Indians;  wading  the  rivers 
a hundred  times  and  more,  through  the  mud  and  over  the 
sharp  rocks  that  cut  my  feet;  carrying  the  canoe  and  lug- 
gage through  the  woods,  to  avoid  the  rapids  and  frightful 
cataracts,  and  half-starved  all  the  while,  for  w’e  had  nothing 
to  eat  but  a little  sagamite,  a sort  of  porridge  of  water  and 
pounded  maize,  of  which  they  gave  us  a very  small  allow- 


' “ Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World." 


3P4 


SAMrSL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


auce  every  morning  and  night.  But  1 must  needs  tell  you 
what  abundant  consolation  1 found  Under  all  my  troubles  ; 
for  when  one  sees  so  many  infidels  needing  nothing  but  a 
drop  of  water  to  make  them  children  of  God,  he  feels  an 
inexpressible  ardor  to  labor  for  their  conversion,  and  sacri- 
fice to  it  his  repose  and  his  life.”' 

About  a week  after,  the  devoted  Champlain  was  follow- 
ing on  the  track  of  the  pious  Franciscan.  With  two  ca- 
noes, ten  Indians,  his  interpreter,  and  a Frenchman,  he 
pushed  up  the  currents  of  the  Ottawa,  passed  into  the  Mat- 
tawan,  and  was  soon  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Nipissing.  Here 
he  was  well  received  by  the  Indians,  and  rested  for  two 
days.  His  canoes  then  skimmed  down  the  French  river,  and 
soon  his  eyes  beheld  the  placid  waters  of  Lake  Huron,  to 
which  he  gave  the  name  of  ‘‘Mer  Douce.  Paddling  to 
the  south,  along  the  eastern  shore  of  Georgian  Bay,  he 
landed,  and,  on  the  1st  of  August,  found  himself  in  the 
famed  country  of  the  Hurons.  ‘ 

The  Huron  territory  stretched  from  north  to  south  be- 
tween the  rivers  to-day  named  the  Severn  and  Nottawasaga; 
and  from  east  to  west  between  Lake  Simcoe  and  the  Georgian 
Bay.  Its  length  was  about  twenty  or  twenty  five  leagues, 
and  its  width  not  more  than  seven  or  eight  leagues.  Al- 
though the  soil  was  sandy,  it  was  quite  fertile,  and  produced 
Indian  corn,  beans,  and  pumpkins  in  abundance.  Indeed, 
the  Huron  country  was  regarded  as  the  granary  of  the  Al- 
gonquin nations,  whose  half-naked  hordes  came  hither 
yearly  from  the  borders  of  Lake  Nipissing  and  the  banks  of 
the  Ottawa  river,  to  buy  their  provisions.  Champlain  found 
eighteen  villages.  “By  the  Indian  standard,”  writes  Park- 


• Parkman’s  translation.  With  the  exception  of  the  last  sentence,  this  extract  can  he  found 
In  Ferland,  “Conrs  d'Histoire  du  Canada,”  Vol.  I.  p.  173.  The  original  sources  are  Sagard. 
“ Histoire  de  la  Nonvelle  France,”  and  Le  Clercq,  *■  Establissement  de  la  Foy.”  The  foregoing  is 
quoted  from  “ Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World,”  p.  363. 

> For  more  than  a hundred  miles,  his  course  was  along  the  eastern  shores  of  the  Georgian  Bay 
through  tortuous  channels,  of  Islets  countless  as  the  sea-sands— an  archipelago  of  rocks  worn 
for  ages  hy  the  wash  of  waves.  Not  to  this  day  does  the  handiwork  of  man  break  the  savage 
charm  of  those  lonely  coasts.  He  crossed  Byng  Inlet,  Franklin  Inlet,  Parry  Sound,  and  the 
wider  Bay  of  Matcbedasb,  and  seems  to  have  debarked  at  the  inlet  now  called  Thunder  Bay,  at 
the  entrance  of  the  Bay  of  Matchedash  and  a little  to  the  west  of  the  harbor  of  Penetanguish- 
ine.—Parkman. 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


365 


man,  “it  was  a mighty  nation ; yet  the  entire  Huron*  popu- 
lation did  not  exceed  that  of  a second  or  third  class  Ameri- 
can city,  and  the  draft  of  twenty-five  hundred  waniors, 
pledged  to  Champlain,  must  have  left  its  villages  bereft  of 
fighting-men." 

Father  Le  Caron,  on  his  arrival,  took  up  his  abode  in  the 
village  of  Carhagonha.  Here  he  built  for  himself  a cabin 
of  poles  and  bark,  in  which  he  erected  an  altar  for  the  cele- 
bration of  the  Sacred  Mysteries.  Champlain  came  just  in 
time  to  assist  at  the  first  Mass.  When  the  Holy  Sacrifice 
was  ended,  a large  wooden  Cross  was  made,  blessed,  and 
planted  in  the  soil,  while  all  the  Frenchmen  present  chanted 
the  Te  Deum.,  and  a volley  of  musketry  resounded  through 
the  forests.  Thus  was  the  precious  sign  of  Redemption 
erected  for  the  first  time  in  a land  covered  with  the  dark- 
ness of  paganism. 

On  the  1st  of  September  the  little  army  of  Hurons  began 
the  march  under  the  leadership  of  Champlain,  who  was  ac- 
companied by  twelve  Frenchmen.  The  fleet  of  canoes 
skimmed  over  Lake  Simcoe,  then  followed  the  course  of  a 
number  of  little  rivers,  and  passed  over  a portage  to  the 
lakes  which  form  the  sources  of  the  River  Trent.  As  they 
traversed  a country  full  of  game  and  fish,  there  was  no  dan- 
ger of  starvation.  Passing  down  the  Trent,  the  little  fleet 
entered  the  Bay  of  Quinte,  and,  after  a voyage  of  thirty-five 
days,  Champlain  beheld  the  sparkling  waters  of  the  grand 
and  beautiful  Lake  Ontario.  “There,”  he  writes,  “is  the 
beginning  of  the  great  River  St.  Lawrence.” 

The  nimble  paddles  cut  the  smooth  surface  of  Ontario, 
and  soon  the  birch-bark  squadron  touched  the  New  York 
shore.  We  shall  let  the  photographic  pen  of  Parkman  re- 
count what  befell  the  hardy  invaders. 

After  hiding  their  light  craft  in  the  woods,  the  warriors 
took  up  their  swift  and  wary  march,  filing  in  silence  between 


> This  people  received  the  name  of  Hnrons  abont  the  year  1600 ; they  called  ihermelvee 
WyandoU. 

Eux-mOmes  se  nommaient  Wendats.  Ils  avaient  re^n  le  nom  de  Hnrons  vers  I’ann^  1600, 
lorsqne  ayant  entendn  parler  des  Fran9ais  qni  faisaient  la  traite  Tadoussac,  Us  y etaient  de- 
scendns  poor  echanger  lenr  pelleteries. — Abbe  Ferland. 


36e 


SAMUEL  7)E  CHAMPLAIN. 


the  woods  and  tlie  lake,  for  twelve  miles  along  the  pebbly 
strand.  Then  they  struck  inland,  threaded  the  forest,  crossed 
the  River  Onondaga,  and,  after  a march  of  four  days,  w^ere 
deep  within  the  western  limits  of  the  Iroquois.  Some  of 
their  scouts  met  a fishing-party  of  this  people,  and  captured 
them,  eleven  in  number — men,  women  and  children.  They 
were  brought  to  the  camp  of  the  exultant  Hurons.  As  a 
beginning  of  the  jubilation,  a chief  cut  a finger  of  one  of 
the  w'omen  ; but  desisted  from  further  torturing  on  the  angry 
protest  of  Champlain. 

Light  broke  in  upon  the  forest.  The  hostile  town  was 
close  at  hand.  Rugged  fields  lay  before  them,  with  a slovenly 
and  savage  cultivation.  The  young  Hurons  in  advance  saw 
the  Iroquois  at  work  among  the  pumpkins  and  maize,  gath- 
ering their  rustling  harvest,  for  it  was  the  10th  of  October. 
Nothing  could  restrain  the  hare-brained  and  ungoverned 
crew.  They  screamed  their  war-cry  and  rushed  in ; but  the 
Iroquois  snatched  their  weapons,  killed  and  wounded  five 
or  six  of  the  assailants,  and  drove  back  the  rest  discomfited. 
Champlain  and  his  Frenchmen  were  forced  to  interpose ; and 
the  crack  of  their  pieces  from  the  border  of  the  woods 
stopped  the  pursuing  enemy,  who  withdrew  to  their  de- 
fenses, bearing  Avith  them  their  dead  and  wounded. 

It  was  a town  of  the  Senecas,  the  most  populous  and  one 
of  the  most  warlike  of  the  five  Iroquois  tribes  ; and  its  site 
was  on  or  near  the  lakes  of  Central  New  York,  perhaps 
Lake  Canandaigua.  Champlain  describes  its  defensive  works 
as  much  stronger  than  those  of  the  Huron  villages.  They 
consisted  of  four  concentric  rows  of  palisades,  formed  of 
trunks  and  trees,  thirty  feet  high,  each  aslant  in  the  earth 
and  intersecting  each  other  near  the  top,  where  they  sup- 
ported a kind  of  gallery,  well  defended  by  shot-proof  tim- 
ber, and  furnished  with  wooden  gutters  for  quenching  fire. 
A pond  or  lake  which  washed  one  side  of  the  palisade,  and 
was  led  by  sluices  vdthin  the  town,  gave  an  ample  supply  of 
water,  while  the  galleries  were  well  provided  with  magazines 
of  stones. 

Champlain  was  greatly  exasperated  at  the  desultory  and 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


se? 

futile  procedure  of  liis  Huron  allies.  At  their  evening 
camp  in  the  adjacent  forest,  he  upbraided  the  throng  of 
chiefs  and  warriors  somewhat  sharply,  and,  having  finished 
his  admonition,  he  proceeded  to  instruct  them  in  the  art 
of  war. 

In  the  morning,  aided  doubtless  by  his  ten  or  twelve 
Frenchmen,  they  betook  themselves  with  alacrity  to  their 
prescribed  task.  A wooden  tower  was  made,  high  enough 
to  overlook  the  palisade,  and  large  enough  to  shelter  four 
or  five  marksmen.  Huge  wooden  shields,  or  movable  para- 
pets, like  the  mantelets  of  the  Middle  Ages,  were  also  con- 
structed. Four  hours  sufficed  to  finish  the  work,  and  then 
the  assault  began.  Two  hundred  of  the  strongest  warriors, 
with  unwonted  prowess,  dragged  the  tower  forward,  and 
planted  it  within  a pike's  length  of  the  palisade.  Three 
arquebusiers  mounted  to  the  top  and  opened  a raking  fire 
along  the  galleries,  now  thronged  with  wild  and  naked 
defenders. 

But  nothing  could  restrain  the  ungovernable  Hurons. 
They  abandoned  their  mantelets,  and,  deaf  to  every  com- 
mand, swarmed  out  like  bees  upon  the  open  field,  leaped, 
shouted,  shrieked  their  war-cries,  and  shot  off  their  arrows; 
while  the  Iroquois,  hurling  defiance  from  their  ramparts, 
sent  back  a shower  of  stones  and  arrows  in  reply.  A 
Huron,  bolder  than  the  rest,  ran  forward  with  firebrands  to 
burn  the  palisade,  and  others  followed  with  wood  to  feed 
the  flame.  But  it  was  stupidly  kindled  on  the  leeward 
side,  without  the  protecting  shields  designed  to  cover  it; 
and  torrents  of  water  poured  down  from  the  gutters 
above  quickly  extinguished  it.  The  confusion  was  re- 
doubled. Champlain  strove  in  vain  to  restore  order.  Each 
warrior  was  yelling  at  the  top  of  his  throat,  and  his  voice 
was  drowned  in  the  outrageous  din.  Thinking,  as  he  says, 
that  his  head  would  split  with  shouting,  he  gave  over  the 
attempt,  and  busied  himself  and  his  men  with  picking  off 
the  Iroquois  along  their  ramparts. 

The  attack  lasted  three  hours,  when  the  assailants  fell 
back  to  their  fortified  camp,  with  seventeen  warriors  wounded. 


368 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


Champlain,  too,  had  received  an  arrow  in  his  knee  and  an- 
other in  his  leg,  which,  for  the  time,  disabled  him.  He  was 
urgent,  however,  to  renew  the  attack ; while  the  Hurons, 
crest-fallen  and  disheartened,  refused  to  move  from  their 
camp  unless  the  five  hundred  allies  for  some  time  expected 
should  appear. 

They  waited  five  days  in  vain,  beguiling  the  interval  with 
frequent  skirmishes,  in  which  they  were  always  worsted , 
then  began  hastily  to  retreat  in  confused  lines  along  the 
somber  forest-pathways,  while  the  Iroquois,  sallying  from 
their  stronghold,  showered  arrows  on  their  flanks  and  rear. 
Their  wounded — Champlain  among  the  rest— had  been 
packed  in  baskets  for  transportation,  each  borne  on  the  back 
of  a strong  warrior,  “bundled  in  a heap,”  says  Champlain, 
“doubled  and  strapped  together  after  such  a fashion  that 
one  could  move  no  more  than  an  infant  in  swaddling- 
clothes.  ...  I lost  all  patience,  and  as  soon  as  I could  bear 
my  weight  I got  out  of  this  prison,  or,  to  speak  plainly,  out 
of  hell.” 

At  length  the  dismal  march  was  ended.  They  reached 
the  spot  where  their  canoes  were  hidden,  found  them  un- 
touched, embarked,  and  recrossed  to  the  northern  shore  of 
Lake  Ontario.  The  Hurons  had  promised  Champlain  an  es- 
cort to  Quebec;  but,  as  the  chiefs  had  little  power,  in  peace 
or  war,  beyond  that  of  persuasion,  each  warrior  found  good 
reason  for  refusing  to  go,  or  lend  his  canoe. 

Champlain,  too,  had  lost  prestige.  The  “man  with  the 
iron  breast”  had  proved  not  inseparably  wedded  to  victory; 
and  though  the  fault  was  their  own,  yet  not  the  less  was  the 
luster  of  their  hero  tarnished.  There  was  no  alternative. 
He  must  winter  with  the  Hurons.  The  great  war  party 
broke  into  fragments,  each  band  betaking  itself  to  its  hunt- 
ing-ground. A chief  named  Durantal  offered  Champlain 
the  shelter  of  his  lodge,  and  he  was  fain  to  accept  it.* 

Winter  wore  away,  spring  came,  and  finally  summer.  It 
was,  in  truth,  a novel  and  stirring  time  for  Champlain. 
Here  his  many  adventures  “by  flood  and  field”  cannot  be 


* “ Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World.” 


CHAMPLAIN  FIGHTING  THE  BATTLE  OF  THE  INDIANS. 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


369 


recounted.  Our  space  is  too  small.  We  must  hasten  on.  It 
was  the  11th  of  July,  1616,  as  he  again  trod  the  rude  streets 
of  Quebec,  accompanied  by  his  Huron  host,  Durantal. 
Great  were  the  rejoicings,  for  the  Indians  had  reported  that 
he  was  dead.  Father  Le  Caron — who  had  returned  a little 
before  him— welcomed  the  brave  companion  of  his  toils  ; 
and  the  Franciscans  offered  up  a solemn  Mass  of  thanks- 
giving in  their  little  chapel. 

Serious  work  now  remained  for  Champlain.  In  his  ab- 
sence the  puny  colony  had  been  daily  wasting  away,  and  with- 
out the  constant  support  of  his  strong  arm  and  magic 
presence,  it  must  soon  ingloriously  perish.  He  was  the  life 
and  soul  of  Canada,  yet  there  were  colonists  on  whose  friend- 
ship he  dare  not  count.  His  was  a stern  and  thankless  toil. 

The  picture  of  affairs  given  by  Parkman  is  dismal.  At 
Quebec  all  was  discord  and  disorder.  Champlain  was  the 
nominal  commander ; but  the  actual  authority  was  with  the 
merchants,  who  held,  excepting  the  Franciscan  Fathers, 
nearly  every  one  in  their  pay.  Each  was  jealous  of  the 
other,  but  all  were  united  in  a common  jealousy  of  Cham- 
plain. From  a short-sighted  view  of  self-interest,  they 
sought  to  check  the  colonization  which  they  were  pledged 
to  promote.  Some  of  the  merchants  were  of  Rouen,  some 
of  St.  Malo ; some  were  Catholics,  some  were  Huguenots. 
Hence  unceasing  bickerings.  All  exercise  of  the  Reformed 
Religion,  on  land  or  water,  was  prohibited  within  the  limits 
of  New  France ; but  the  Huguenots  set  the  prohibition  at 
naught,  roaring  their  heretical  psalmody  with  such  vigor 
from  their  ships  in  the  river  that  the  unhallowed  strains 
polluted  the  ears  of  the  Indians  on  shore.  Champlain,  in 
this  singularly  trying  position,  displayed  a mingled  zeal 
and  fortitude.  He  went  every  year  to  France,  laboring  for 
the  interests  of  the  colony.  * 

* “ Pioneers  of  France  in  the  Xew  World.” 

D'annee  en  annee,  les  memes  difiBcuItes  ponrsnivaient  le  fondatenr  de  Quebec.  En  France, 
tracasf  eries,  lesineries,  delais,  du  c6te  des  associes ; jalousies,  proces,  empietements,  de  la  part 
des  marchands  Strangers  a la  compagnie;  indifference  de  la  conr,  qui  ne  ponvait,  ni  ne  vonlait 
s'occnper  de  ces  possessions  lointaines;  sur  incr,  des  voyages  longs,  penibles  et  souvent  danger- 
eux-  en  Amerique,  la  disette  et  les  maladies  parmi  les  Fran^:ais,  la  ISgeretS  et  la  malveillance  des 
nations  indigenes:  voila  les  Spreuves,  tonjours  rcnaissantes,  qne  Champlain  Stait  condamnS  i 


370 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


The  founder  of  Quebec  remained  in  France  during  1619. 
In  the  midst  of  the  events  which  then  agitated  that  King- 
dom, it  was  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  the  distant  colony 
of  Canada  would  command  much  attention.  Still,  the  young 
Duke  de  Montmorency  purchased  from  the  Prince  of  Conde 
the  profitable  lieutenancy  of  the  colony.  He  paid  11,000 
crowns  for  the  bargain,  and  constituted  Champlain  his 
Lieutenant-  Greneral . 

Louis  XIII.,  recognizing  the  services  rendered  to  religion 
and  to  France,  addressed  the  following  letter  to  the  intrepid 
explorer : 

“Champlain:  Having  learned  of  the  commission  which 
you  have  received  from  my  cousin,  the  Duke  de  Montmo- 
rency, Admiral  of  France,  and  my  Viceroy  in  Canada,  to 
proceed  to  that  country  as  his  Lieutenant,  and  to  have  a 
care  for  what  concerns  my  service,  I have  great  pleasure  in 
addressing  you  this  letter,  in  order  to  assure  you  how’  very 
agreeable  shall  be  the  services  which  you  will  render  me  on 
this  occasion,  above  all,  if  you  preserve  the  colony  in  my 
obedience,  leading  the  inhabitants  to  live  in  conformity 
with  the  laws  of  France,  and  having  due  care  for  the  prog- 
ress of  the  Catholic  Faith,  to  the  end  that  you  may  thereby 
call  down  the  Divine  blessing  on  yourself,  and  that  you  may 
succeed  in  all  your  enterprises  for  the  glory  of  God,  whom 
I beseech  to  keep  you  in  His  holy  Grace.  Given  at  Paris, 
the  7th  day  of  May,  1620.” 

The  prospects  of  the  colony  were  growing  brighter. 
Champlain  engaged  a number  of  persons  to  emigrate  with 
him  to  Canada,  and  he  even  decided  to  make  his  own  per- 
manent residence  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  He 
sailed  from  France,  accompanied  by  his  wife  and  several  of 
her  relations,  and  landed  at  Quebec  in  the  summer  of  1620. 
The  Governor  was  received  with  every  mark  of  joy  and 
respect.  A solemn  Te  Deum  was  chanted  in  the  chapel, 
of  the  Franciscans,  ard  new  life  and  happiness  seemed  to 

Sabir  dans  I’accomplissement  de  sa  noble  mission.  Et  cependant  sa  foi  an  snccess  de  son  oeuvre 
4tait  si  ferme,  son  desir  de  fonder  iin  empire  fran^ais  en  Ameriqne,  et  d’appeler  les  nations  sau- 
vages  a la  civilization  et  a la  religion  chretienne  etait  si  ardent  et  si  perseverant,  que  rien  ne  poavait 
^branler  son  devouement,  ni  diminuer  sa  confiance  dans  la  protection  de  Dieu. — Abbe  Ferland. 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


371 


be  infused  into  the  rough,  motley  society  of  the  little  rock- 
built  capital  of  Canada. 

It  was  surely  a period  of  no  small  pleasure  to  the  noble 
Champlain,  on  finding  himself,  after  so  many  fatigues, 
anxieties  and  voyages,  in  the  bosom  of  his  family,  happily 
reunited  near  him,  in  the  colony  which  he  had  founded, 
and  which  was  to  become  his  adopted  country. 

The  young  and  amiable  Madame  de  Champlain  had  taken 
with  her  two  or  three  ladies,  attached  to  her  service,  and 
who  were  to  her  a necessity  in  the  midst  of  a society  com- 
posed almost  entirely  of  men.  Although  but  twenty -two 
years  of  age,  she  had  exhibited  no  common  courage  in 
undertaking  such  a long  and  painful  voyage  at  that  early 
epoch  of  American  history.  During  the  four  years  she 
remained  in  Canada,  she  won  the  respect  and  affection  of 
both  the  French  and  the  Indians.  The  poor  savages  were 
delighted  with  her  beauty  and  goodness.  And  she,  with  the 
most  praiseworthy  energy  and  devotion,  learned  the  Algon- 
quin dialect,  and  taught  catechism  to  the  little  tawny  half- 
naked  children  who  crowded  around  her  knee,  earned  her 
sweet  smile,  and  heard  words  of  holy  instuction  fall  from 
her  lips. 

Throughout  her  whole  life  Madame  de  Champlain  con- 
tinued to  testify  the  deep  interest  she  took  in  the  Canadian 
missions;  and  when,  after  the  death  of  her  illustrious  hus- 
band, she  retired  to  the  Ursuline  convent,  at  Meaux,  in 
France,  she  ceased  not  to  remember  the  simple  children  of 
the  forest,  some  of  whom  had  listened  in  other  days  to  the 
sound  of  her  maternal  voice. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  DEATH  OF  CHAMPLAIN. 

Orowth  of  the  colony — Religious  discord — Quebec  taken 
by  the  English — The  feeling  in  France — The  lofty 
energy  of  Champlain — Canada  restored  to  France — 
Champlain  becomes  Governor — His  influence  over  the 
Ravages — Onward  progress  of  the  colony — A college  at 
Quebec — Glance  at  Champlain's  daily  life — His  death, 
on  Christmas  Day,  1635 — His  Character. 

The  religious  controversies  which  prevailed  in  France 
added  to  the  number  of  colonists  that  sought  new  homes 
in  Canada.  Champlain  was  laboring  late  and  early  for  the 
welfare  of  the  colony.  A settlement  was  made  at  Three 
Rivers,  and  a brisk  trade  was  carried  on  at  Tadoussac.  In 
1626  Quebec  began  to  assume  the  face  of  a city.  Most  of 
the  old  buildings  had  been  leveled  with  the  ground,  and 
new  ones  erected.  The  fortress  was  rebuilt  with  stone.* 
Religious  troubles,  however,  unhappily  began  to  disturb 
the  peace  of  the  colony.  The  people  were  divided  in  their 
religious  principles.  The  Caens,  who  held  the  monopoly  of 
trade,  were  bitter  Calvinists.  This  added  to  the  difficulties 
of  Champlain’ s position.  He  was  deeply  scandalized  by  the 
contumacious  heresy  of  Emery  de  Caen,  who  not  only  as- 
sembled his  Huguenot  sailors  at  prayers,  but  forced  Catho- 


' The  year  16SJ4  was  rendered  memorable  at  Quebec  by  St.  Joseph's  being  chosen  as  the  jlrtt 
Patron  Saint  of  Canada. 

L’annee  1624  fat  marquee  a Quebec  par  une  solcmnite  religiense,  a laquelle  assisterent  tons  les 
Fran^ais  et  plnsieurs  sanvages.  Elle  fat  cfilebree  en  execution  d’nn  voeu  fait  a I'honneur  de  Saint 
Joseph,  que,  dans  cette  occasion,  fat  choisi  comme  premier  patron  de  la  Nouvelle  France. 
Depuis  ce  temps,  la  devotion  envers  Saint  Joseph  s’est  toujonrs  conservee  vive  et  efficace  parmi 
les  Canadiens,  ainsi  que  I’attestent  les  nombreuses  eglises  placees  sous  sa  protection,  et  lee  con- 
freries  etablies  en  son  honneur. — Ahbe  Ferland. 

The  first  band  of  Jesuits  that  trod  the  soil  of  (Canada  landed  at  Quebec  in  162.5.  It  consisted  of 
Fathers  Charles  Lalement,  John  deBrebeuf,  Enemond  Masse,  and  two  Brothers. 

372 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


373 


lies  to  join  them.  Caen  was  ordered  thenceforth  to  prohibit 
his  crews  from  all  praying  and  palm-singing  on  the  River 
St.  Lawrence.  The  crews  revolted,  and  a compromise  was 
made.  It  was  agreed  that,  for  the  present,  they  might  pray, 
but  not  sing.  “ A bad  bargain,”  says  the  pious  Champlain, 
“but  we  made  the  best  of  it  we  could.”  Caen,  enraged  at 
the  Viceroy’s  reproofs,  lost  no  opportunity  to  vent  his  spleen 
against  the  Jesuits.' 

In  this  divided  state,  the  colony  was  suddenly  attacked  by 
an  English  armament,  under  the  command  of  Sir  David 
Kirk,  in  1629.  He  sailed  up  the  St.  Lawrence,  appeared  be- 
fore Quebec,  and  demanded  the  surrender  of  the  place. 
Champlain,  though  ill  prepared  to  resist  an  attack,  gave  a 
bold  and  dignified  refusal.  But  the  town  was  so  miserably 
supplied  with  provisions,  that  in  a short  time  each  man 
was  reduced  to  live  on  seven  ounces  a day  of  peas.  A re- 
lief squadron  from  France  entered  the  river,  but  was  cap- 
tured by  the  English.  This  last  blow  made  further  resist- 
ance useless,  and  Champlain  was  reluctantly  obliged  to 
capitulate. 

He  was  carried  to  France  in  a British  vessel,  and  found 
the  minds  of  the  rulers  there  much  divided  with  regard  to 
Canada.  Some  considered  it  not  worth  regaining,  as  it  had 
cost  the  government  vast  sums,  without  making  any  return; 
others  deemed  the  fishery  and  fur  trade  to  be  great  national 
objects,  especially  as  they  proved  to  be  a nursery  for 
seamen. 

Champlain  stHl  ardently  hoped  to  see  his  colony  re-estab- 
lished. With  him  patriotism,  religion  and  civilization  were 
inseparable.  To  found  a Christian  empire  in  America,  to 
civilize  the  Indian  and  make  him  a child  of  the  Church — 
such  were  the  grand  objects  to  which  this  illustrious  man 
consecrated  his  energy,  his  affection,  his  life.  He  now  used 
all  his  infiuence  and  his  eloquence  to  show  the  value  of 
Canada  to  the  mother  country.  Nor  were  his  efforts  in  vain. 
By  the  Treaty  of  St.  Germain,  in  1632,  Canada  was  restored 
to  France. 


> Parkman. 


374 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


In  May,  1633,  Champlain  landed  at  Quebec.  He  carried 
with  him  his  commission  as  Q-overnor  of  Canada,  signed  by 
Cardinal  Richelieu  in  behalf  of  the  company  of  New 
France.  He  was  handed  the  keys  the  citadel,  and  re- 
sumed command.  The  joy  of  the  colonists  was  boundless 
on  seeing  the  founder  of  their  country.  All  recognized  and 
admired  his  devotion,  and  his  noble,  indomitable  character. 

But  a few  days  passed  away,  when  he  held  a great  coun- 
cil, to  which  he  invited  his  dusky  friends,  the  Algonquin 
chiefs.  He  had  heard  that  it  was  their  intention  to  trade 
with  the  English,  and  he  spoke  to  them  with  such  skill  and 
insinuating  eloquence  that  the  Indians  promised  to  hold  no 
commerce  with  the  enemies  of  the  French.  On  such  occa- 
sions, Champlain  was  accustomed  to  gain  over  the  savages 
not  only  by  his  tact,  prudence,  and  pointed  reasoning, 
but  even  more  so  by  his  gayety  and  excellent  good  humor. 
“You  are  always  the  same,”  said  a chief,  addressing  him  at 
the  close  of  this  assembly.  “You  have  always  something 
to  say  which  gladdens  our  hearts  and  puts  us  in  good 
temper.” 

The  blessing  of  Heaven  now  seemed  to  rest  on  the  colony, 
and  it  advanced  with  rapid  strides  on  the  road  of  peace  and 
prosperity.  Immigrants  flowed  in.  The  Jesuit  Fathers  es- 
tablished the  Huron  missions,  attended  to  the  spiritual 
welfare  of  the  colonists,  and  founded  a college  at  Quebec, 
the  first  college  erected  in  North  America  from  Hudson’s 
Bay  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  “Its  foundation  was  laid,  ’ 
writes  Bancroft,  “under  happy  auspices  in  1635,  just  before 
Champlain  passed  from  among  the  living;  and  two  years 
before  the  immigration  of  John  Harvard,  and  one  year  before 
the  General  Court  of  Massachusetts  had  made  provisions 
for  a college.”  ’ 

Since  his  return  to  Quebec  the  venerable  Champlain  led  a 
most  active  and  saintly  life.  He  established  such  admir- 
able order  among  both  citizens  and  soldiers  that,  according 
to  Father  Le  Jeune,  S.  J.,  “the  fort  resembled  a well  regu- 
lated academy.”  Following  the  example  of  their  chief,  all 


' “ History  of  the  United  States,”  Vol.  ni. 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIN. 


375 


approached  the  Sacraments.  Their  conduct  was  regular  and 
edifying.  Jesuit  Fathers  and  scarfed  officers  mingled  at 
Champlain’s  table.  There  was  little  conversation,  but  in  its 
place  good  histories  and  the  lives  of  the  saints  were  read 
aloud,  as  in  the  refectory  of  a monastery.  In  the  evening, 
like  a true  father,  the  Governor  reunited  the  soldiers  to- 
gether in  his  room  to  make  the  examination  of  conscience, 
and  to  say  the  prayers  for  the  night.  He  also  established 
the  custom — so  religiously  continued  to  the  present  time — 
of  sounding  the  Angelus  bell  three  times  a day. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  happy  circumstances  the  angel 
of  death  came.  On  Christmas  day,  1635,  the  sad  news  was 
whispered  around  Quebec  that  Champlain  was  no  more. 
And  thus,  at  the  age  of  sixty-eight,  after  receiving  all  the  holy 
consolations  of  religion,  on  the  most  beautiful  festival  in  the 
calendar  of  the  Church,  the  illustrious  Founder  of  Canada 
went  to  receive  the  reward  of  the  faitliful  servant. 

“Christmas  Day,  1635,”  w'lites  Parkman,  “was  a dark 
day  in  the  annals  of  New  France.  In  a chamber  of  the  fort, 
breathless  and  cold,  lay  the  hardy  frame  which  war,  the  wil- 
derness, and  the  sea  had  buffeted  so  long  in  vain.  After 
two  months  and  a half  of  illness,  Champlain,  at  the  age  of 
sixty-eight,  was  dead.  His  last  cares  were  for  his  colony  and 
the  succor  of  its  suffering  families.  Jesuits,  officers,  soldiers, 
traders,  and  the  few  settlers  of  Quebec  followed  his  remains 
to  the  church;  Le  Jeune*  pronounced  his  eulogy,  and  the 
feeble  community  built  a tomb  to  his  honor  ” 

Champlain  passed  away,  loved  and  honored  by  all.  Many 
years  afterwards,  a Jesuit  missionary  heard  among  the 
Huron  Indians  the  warmest  testimony  of  their  admiration 
for  the  virtues  wffiich  they  had  remarked  in  Champlain  dur- 
ing the  winter  that  he  passed  in  their  country.  They  held 
his  memory  in  the  greatest  respect. 

A careful  study  of  his  life  and  character  will  show  us 
that  he  possessed  all  the  qualities  to  be  expected  in  the 
founder  of  a colony — constancy,  firmness,  courage,  disinter- 
estedness, honor,  loyalty,  patriotism,  and  above  all  a living 


• The  Superior  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers  at  Quebec. 


376 


SAMUEL  BE  CHAMPLAIM. 


practical  faith  which  crowned  the  beauty  of  his  noble  char- 
acter, and  led  him  to  regard  “ the  salvation  of  a single  soul 
as  worth  more  than  the  conquest  of  an  empire.”' 

To  profound  religious  convictions,  he  added  grandeur  of 
views,  firmness  in  the  midst  of  reverses,  and  a marvelous 
perseverance  in  the  principal  work  of  his  life.  His  unwav- 
ering confidence  in  the  protection  of  God,  and  his  faith  in 
the  success  of  his  enterprises,  are  worthy  of  our  admira- 
tion. In  the  midst  of  a thousand  difficulties  he  marched  on 
courageously  towards  the  goal  at  which  he  aimed  for  the 
glory  of  God  and  the  honor  of  France. 

Thirty- two  years  before  his  death  he  had  visited  the  ma- 
jestic St.  Lawrence  for  the  first  time,  and  formed  the  grand 
project  of  planting  the  French  fiag  on  the  heights  of  Que- 
bec. Year  after  year,  he  persevered  in  this  glorious  enter- 
prise. In  war,  in  councils,  in  his  long  voyages  of  discov- 
ery, and  in  every  position,  he  never  ceased  to  exhibit  an  en- 
ergy, courage,  skill,  and  constancy,  which  were  beyond  all 
praise. 

He  founded  the  city  of  Quebec,  and  with  rare  happiness 
chose  the  sites  on  which  stand  to-day  the  cities  of  Three 
Rivers’  and  Montreal.’  So  carefully  did  he  protect  the  pub- 
lic and  private  interests  of  both  the  French  colonists  and 
the  Indians, that  they  regarded  him  as  a father;  and  in  the 
midst  of  contests  and  disputed  matters,  which  he  had  often 
to  decide,  never  was  a doubt  raised  as  to  the  supreme  recti- 
tude of  his  intentions. 

“Of  the  pioneers  of  the  North  American  forests,”  says 
Parkman,  “his  name  stands  foremost  on  the  list.  It  was 
he  who  struck  the  deepest  and  boldest  strokes  into  the  heart 
of  their  pristine  barbarism.  At  Chantilly,  at  Fontainebleau. 

> Champlain’s  zeal  for  the  propagation  of  the  Catholic  religion  was  so  great  that  it  was  a com- 
mon saying  with  him  that  “ the  salvation  of  one  soul  was  of  more  value  than  the  conquest  of  an 
empire.” — Jeremy  Belknap. 

“ The  city  of  Three  Rivers  is  between  Quebec  and  Montreal.  It  is  the  see  of  a Catholie 
Bishop,  and  in  1871  had  a population  of  7,570. 

> Montreal  is  to-day  the  largest  city  in  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  and  the  commercial  capital  of 
the  country.  It  stands  on  an  island  of  the  same  name,  which  is  about  30  miles  long  by  10  wide. 
In  1871  the  population  was  107,225,  of  which  77,  980  were  Catholics.  Mount  Royal,  from  which  if 
deriTes  its  name,  rises  750  feet  above  the  harbor. 


SAMUEL  DE  CHAMPLAIN. 


377 


at  Paris,  in  the  cabinets  of  princes  and  of  royalty  itself, 
mingling  with  the  proud  vanities  of  the  Court ; then  lost 
from  sight  in  the  depths  of  Canada,  the  companion  of  sav- 
ages, sharer  of  their  toils,  privations,  and  battles,  more 
hardy,  patient,  and  bold  than  they — such  for  successive 
years  were  the  alternations  of  this  man’s  life.  A soldier 
from  his  youth,  in  an  age  of  unbridled  license,  his  life  an- 
swered to  his  maxims ; and  when  a generation  had  passed 
after  his  visit  to  the  Hurons,  their  elders  remembered  with 
astonishment  the  continence  of  the  great  French  war-chief.”* 
“That  which  we  most  admire  in  him,”  writes  Charlevoix, 
“was  his  constancy  in  carrying  out  his  enterprises,  his 
bravery  in  the  greatest  dangers,  his  courage,  which  was  proof 
against  the  most  trying  misfortunes,  his  ardent  and  disinter- 
ested zeal  for  his  country,  and  his  tender  and  compassionate 
heart.  He  was  the  very  soul  of  honor  and  charity.  But 
what  gave  the  crowning  feature  to  all  these  good  qualities 
was  that,  in  his  conduct  as  well  as  in  his  writings,  he  was 
ever  a true  Christian,  zealous  for  the  service  of  God  and  full 
of  candor  and  religion.”  ’ 


* In  the  preparation  of  the  foregoing  sketch  we  especially  acknowledge  onr  great  indebtedness  to 
Packman’s  ‘ Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World,”  and  to  Abbe  Ferland’s  “ Cours  d’Histoire 
du  Canada.” 

’ Besides  the  volume  “ Des  San vages,”  issued  in  1603,  Champlain  published  “ Voyages”  in  1613, 
with  very  valuable  charts  of  the  New  England  coast.  In  1632  he  published  a work  containing  a 
very  badly  executed  abridgment  cf  the  previous  voyages,  without  their  valuable  maps.  This  vol- 
ume also  contains  a catechism  in  Huron  and  prayers  in  Montagnais.  It  was  reprinted  at  Paris  in 
1830.  without  maps.  As  sebolars  required  all  the  voyages  to  know  what  Champlain  really  wrote, 
two  learned  Catholic  clergymen  of  Quebec,  the  Abbes  Laverdiere  and  Casgrain,  well  known  for 
their  histoncal  studies,  published  in  1870  the  whole  series,  including  his  Mexican  voyage,  in 
vok,,  with  notes  and  fac-similM  of  all  the  maps  and  illoatiations.— .American  CycU^atdi*. 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  S.J., 

THE  APOSTLE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS.* 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  YOUTH  OF  A GREAT  MISSIONARY. 

Jogues'  birth  and  family — His  mother — Education — Be- 
comes a Jesuit — Ordination — Seeks  a foreign  mission — 
Is  sent  to  Canada — Letter  to  his  mother — Another  let- 
ter— Is  sent  to  the  Huron  mission — Description  of  the 
journey — His  missionary  toils — Difficulties  of  the  mis- 
sionaries— His  journey  to  the  Tobacco  Hation. 

Isaac  Jogues,  “one  of  the  purest  examples  of  Catholic 
virtue  which  this  Western  Continent  has  seen,”  was  bom  at 
Orleans,  France,  on  the  10th  of  January,  1607.  He  belonged 
to  a most  worthy  family.  At  an  early  age,  the  boy  was 
deprived  of  his  father,  but,  happily,  he  found  in  his  mother 
a noble  woman,  who  understood  the  holy  mission  which  God 
had  confided  to  her  in  the  education  of  her  children. 

In  his  tenth  year,  Isaac  entered  the  college  just  opened  by 
the  Jesuit  Fathers  in  his  native  city.  As  he  grew  in  age,  he 
made  rapid  progress  in  his  studies,  and  always  stood  high 
in  his  class.  When  talent  is  backed  by  hard  work,  the  re- 
ward is  never  uncertain.  In  this  instance,  we  are  told,  suc- 
cess was  the  fruit  of  constant  application,  seconded  by  a 

* Chief  anthorities  used;  Pere  P.  Martin,  “ Le  Re.  P.  Isaac  Jognes,  de  la  Compagnie  de  J^aiu, 
Premier  ApOtre  dea  Iroquois;  ” Pere  F.  J.  Bressani,  ••  Relation  Abregee  de  Quelques  Missions,” 
nouvelle  Edition,  1877;  Abbe  Ferland,  “ Conrs  d'Historie  dn  Canada;”  Bancroft.  “ History  of  tbs 
United  States;”  Parkman,  “The  Jesuits  in  North  America;”  Shea,  "History  of  the  Catholic 
Missions  among  the  Indian  Tribes  of  the  United  States;”  MacLeod,  “Devotion  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin  in  North  America;”  Spalding,  “Miscellanea;”  DeConrcy,  “The  Catholic  Church  in  th« 
United  States;”  “Historj-  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States.” 


379 


380 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  S.  J. 


soKd  judgment,  an  excellent  memory,  much  penetration,  and 
happy  dispositions  of  heart.  Nothing  is  more  favorable  to 
the  highest  development  of  intelligence  than  a good  heart; 
and  truly  a pure,  good  heart  beat  in  the  boyish  bosom  o! 
Isaac  Jogues, 

With  the  consent  and  blessing  of  his  mother,  he  entered 
the  novitiate  of  the  Society  of  J esus,  at  Rouen,  in  his  seven- 
teenth year.  Here  the  future  Apostle  of  the  Iroquois  found 
a master  profoundly  versed  in  the  knowledge  and  practice 
of  the  things  of  God.  This  was  the  famous  Father  Louis 
Lalemant,  S.  J.  The  virtue,  aptitudes,  and  happy  disposi- 
tion of  the  young  novice  were  striking.  He  ‘ ‘ advanced  in 
wisdom,  age,  and  grace  before  God  and  man.”  After  a 
time  he  taught  with  applause,  passed  through  various  col- 
leges of  the  Society,  and  was  ordained  in  1636. 

Father  Jogues’  desire  for  a foreign  mission  was  soon  grati- 
fied, and  in  the  spring  of  1636  he  was  ordered  to  Dieppe, 
where  a squadron  was  about  to  sail  for  Canada.  Before 
quitting  Rouen,  he  wrote  a few  words  of  consolation  to 
his  mother.  The  letter  bears  the  marks  of  haste,  but  it 
shows  the  simplicity,  grandeur  of  soul,  and  filial  affection  of 
the  writer : 

“Most  Honored  Mother: 

“It  would  be  failing  in  the  first  duty  of  a good  son  to- 
wards so  excellent  a mother,  if,  being  on  the  point  of  step- 
ping upon  the  broad  ocean,  I should  forget  to  say  adieu.  I 
sent  you  a letter  last  month  by  Mr.  Tanzeau,  stating  that 
I started  for  Dieppe.  We  hoped  to  sail  about  Holy  Week, 
but  headwinds  and  unfavorable  weather  have  caused  delay. 
I hope  that  God  will  deign  to  give  us  a fair,  pleasant  voy- 
age, as  our  squadron  is  made  up  of  quite  a number  of  ves- 
sels, and  many  good  souls  pray  for  us.  I am  sure  you  will 
please  contribute  something  to  the  success  of  our  voyage 
by  your  prayers,  and,  above  all,  by  a generous  resignatiou 
of  your  will  to  the  Divine  will,  conforming  your  desires  to 
those  of  Divine  Providence,  Avhich  are  never  other  than 
most  holy  and  honorable  for  us,  since  they  emanate  from 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOOUES.  S J. 


381 


the  heart  of  a Father  passionately  solicitous  for  our  welfare. 

“I  hope,  as  I have  said  on  another  occasion,  that  if  you 
receive  this  little  affliction  in  the  proper  spirit,  it  will 
be  extremely  agreeable  to  the  Almighty,  for  the  love  of 
whom  should  be  given  not  only  one  son,  but  all  the  others, 
and  even  life  itself,  if  it  were  necessary.  For  a little  gain 
men  traverse  the  seas,  enduring  at  least  as  much  as  we ; 
and  for  the  love  of  God  we  hesitate  to  endure  what  men  do 
in  the  interest  of  the  world ! 

“Adieu,  my  dear  Mother.  I thank  you  for  all  your  tender 
affection  to  me.  Should  we  not  meet  again  in  this  world, 
God  will  call  us  together  in  the  land  of  the  Blessed. 

“Please  to  give  my  most  humble  regards  to  ray  brothers 
and  sisters,  to  whose  affectionate  prayers,  as  to  your  own,  I 
commend  myself, 

Yoiir  most  humble  son  and  obedient  servant  in  J.  C., 

ISAAC  JOGUES. 

Dieppe,  April  6th,  1636.”* 

The  events  connected  with  his  voyage  and  landing  in 
Canada  are  recounted  in  the  following  letter  to  his  mother, 
dated  at  Three  Rivers,  August  20th,  1636 : 

“At  last,  it  has  pleased  our  Lord  that  I should  stand 
upon  the  soil  of  New  France.  This  is  something  for  which  I 
had  long  hoped.  We  sailed  from  Dieppe  on  the  8th  of 
April,  eight  vessels  in  company,  and  arrived  eight  weeks 
after  our  departure.  I landed  on  an  isle  called  Miscous, 
where  two  of  our  Fathers  are  employed  in  ministering  to  the 
French,  who  have  one  habitation,  and  in  beginning  the  work 
of  conversion  among  the  savages.  After  spending  fifteen 
days  with  them,  I boarded  another  vessel,  which  brought 
me  to  Tadoussac.  This  is  a place  where  the  ships  stop, 
whilst  the  barks  and  smaller  vessels  proceed  up  the  great 
and  lengthy  River  St.  Lawrence  to  Quebec,  a French  post 
which  is  daily  growing.  I arrived  there  on  the  2d  of  July, 
the  Day  of  the  Visitation  of  Our  Lady. 


* A copy  from  the  original  of  this  letter  can  be  found  m Martin's  Le  P.  Isaac  Jogues,  Premier 
Ap6tre  des  Irogvais.  p.  18.  of  which  the  Rev.  anthor  says  that  .he  ‘autographe  est  conserve 
avec  un  religieux  respect  dans  la  famille  du  serviteur  de  Dieu.  et  que  nous  copious  litteralement.  * 


38i 


FATHER  ISAAC  J0GUE8.  8.  J. 


“I  have  enjoyed  such  continued  and  excellent  health  on 
sea  and  land,  thanks  be  to  God,  that  it  is  a cause  of  aston- 
ishment to  myself,  as  it  is  not  by  any  means  an  ordinary 
thing  to  make  such  a long  journey  without  being  an- 
noyed by  either  sea-sickness  or  the  least  indisposition. 
The  vestments  foi‘  Mass  have  been  of  the  greatest  use  to  me, 
for  I have  offered  up  the  Holy  Sacrifice  every  day  during 
favorable  weather,  a happiness  of  which  I would  have  been 
deprived  but  for  the  thoughtful  generosity  of  our  family ; 
this  has  been  a great  consolation  for  me,  and  a favor  which 
our  Fathers  did  not  enjoy  in  preceding  years.  The  squad- 
ron profited  thereby.  Without  this  the  eighty  voyagers 
who  were  on  our  vessel  would  have  been  two  months  with- 
out assisting  at  the  Holy  Sacrifice,  in  place  of  which,  on  ac- 
count of  the  faculty  which  I had  to  celebrate,  they  all 
made  their  confessions  and  received  Communion  on  the 
festivals  of  Pentecost,  Ascension  Day,  and  Corpus  Christi. 
God.  in  His  gratitude,  will  not  fail  to  bless  you  and  Ma- 
dame Hondelin,  for  having  contributed  to  this  good  work. 

“And  now,  dear  Mother,  every  year,  with  the  grace  of 
God,  you  will  receive  letters  from  me,  and,  in  return,  I 
shall  expect  to  hear  from  you.  It  shall  ever  be  to  me  a con- 
solation to  hear  from  you  and  from  our  family,  as  I scarcely 
hope  to  see  you  again  in  this  world.  But  may  God  merci- 
fully grant  that  we  shall  meet  again  in  the  abode  of  the 
blessed,  to  praise  Him  for  all  eternity  ! . . . 

‘‘I  write  this  separated  from  you  by  more  than  a thousand 
leagues,  and  it  may  happen  that  during  the  present  year  I 
shall  be  sent  on  a mission  to  a nation  called  the  Hurons. 
Their  country  is  three  hundred  leagues  distant.  It  is 
said  they  are  well  disposed  to  embrace  the  Faith.  But  it 
matters  not  where  we  are,  provided  that  we  are  always  in 
the  hands  of  Providence  and  in  His  holy  grace — this  is  the 
wish  which  from  the  altar  I shall  every  day  breathe  to 
Heaven  for  you  and  all  our  family.” 

A few  days  after  this,’  the  devoted  Jogues  was  on  his 


’ He  even  refers  to  his  new  m.ssion  in  the  postscript:  “ P.  S.  Oe  viens  de  recevoir  I’ordre  d* 
me  disposer  & partir  dans  trois  on  quatre  jours  pour  aller  chei  les  Hurons.” 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOQUES,  8.  J. 


HS3 

way  up  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  country  of  theHurons.  In 
a letter  written  the  subsequent  year'  to  his  mother,  the  mis- 
sionary gives  us  a glimpse  at  the  details  of  the  long  and  pain- 
ful journey;  and  certainly  it  was  something  far  different 
from  a steamboat  excursion  of  our  day  up  the  Hudson  or 
on  the  St.  Lawrence. 

“As  it  is  not  every  year  that  an  opportunity  may  present 
itself  to  write  to  you,”  he  begins,  “I  now  seize  an  occasion 
to  acquit  myself  of  this  duty  to  so  good  a mother.  I am 
sure  5"ou  will  be  exceedingly  glad  to  learn  the  Divine  good- 
ness to  me  since  my  andval  iu  the  country  of  the  Hurons. 
I wrote  to  you  last  year,  in  the  month  of  August,  just  at 
the  moment  that  I was  about  to  begin  the  journey.  I left 
Three  Rivers  on  the  tw^enty-fourth  of  August,  St.  Bartholo- 
mew’s Day.  I was  put  in  a birch-bark  canoe, which  would 
not  carry  more  than  five  or  six  persons.  It  is  not  very  easy 
to  recount  to  you  all  the  annoyances  of  such  a voyage;  but 
the  love  of  God,  which  called  us  to  these  missions,  and  the 
desire  to  contribute  in  some  way  to  the  conversion  of  the 
poor  barbarians,  renders  all  that  so  sweet  that  we  would  not 
change  these  pains  for  all  the  joys  of  the  world.  The  food 
of  the  voyagers  was  a little  Indian  corn,  crushed  betweeu 
two  stones  and  boiled  in  water,  without  any  other  seasoning. 
W e slept  on  the  earth  or  on  the  frightful  rocks  which  guard 
the  banks  of  the  great  river,  and  always  in  the  glimmer  of  the 
moonshine.  The  posture  which  we  are  obliged  to  take  in 
the  canoes  is  extremely  unpleasant.  So  small  and  narrow 
was  the  space  that  you  need  not  think  of  stretching  your 
legs.  You  could  scarcely  stir,  fearing  to  be  upset  into  the 
water.  I was  obliged  to  keep  a profound  sdence. 

“Other  things  added  to  the  sum  of  our  troubles  and  fa 
tigues.  During  the  voyage  we  met  between  sixty  and  eighty 
rapids  or  waterfalls,  which  descend  with  such  impetuosity 
that,  by  approaching  too  near  them,  the  canoes  are  frequently 
engulfed  It  is  true  that,  as  we  were  going  against  the 
stream,  we  were  not  exposed  to  these  dangers;  but  we  were 


> It  le  dated  Jane  6th,  }637. 


384 


FATHER  ISAAC  JO  CUES.  3.  J. 


none  the  less  obliged  to  travel  over  rocks,  push  through  the 
woods,  and  take  our  way  over  by-paths,  loaded  at  the  same 
time  with  all  the  baggage,  and  even  the  canoe.  As  for  me,  I 
not  only  carried  my  little  package,  but  lent  a hand  to  the 
Indians,  until  a boy  ten  or  twelve  years  of  age,  who  be- 
longed to  our  party,  fell  sick,  and  I took  charge  of  him,  carry- 
ing him  on  my  shoulders  at  the  portages  occasioned  by  the 
cataracts  of  which  I have  spoken. 

“We  pushed  along  the  route  with  such  diligence,  that 
instead  of  twenty-nine  or  thirty  days,  which  this  journey 
commonly  occupies,  we  reached  the  end  in  nineteen.  Here 
I found  five  of  our  Fathers,  some  of  whom  have  resided  in 
the  country  for  five  or  six  years.  The  two  last  arrivals  were 
Fathers  Glarnier  and  Chastelain,  who  reached  the  mission  a 
month  before  me.  And  thus  has  God  preserved  me  to  this 
day  full  of  health  and  strength.” 

On  the  11th  of  September,  1636,  Father  Jogues  arrived  at 
the  Huron  village  of  Ihonatiria,  surnamed  St.  Joseph. 
This  was  the  point  of  destination.  It  was  the  abode  of  the 
missionaries.  Great  was  the  joy  in  the  cabin  of  the  Fathers 
on  the  arrival  of  the  new  brother  who  came  to  be  a partaker 
in  their  toils  and  hopes.  The  illustrious  Superior,  Father 
John  de  Brebeuf,  received  him  with  open  arms,  as  an  angel 
from  Heaven. 

A few  days  after  his  arrival.  Father  Jogues  fell  sick.  A 
pestilential  disorder  broke  out  and  swept  the  land  of  the 
Hurons.  The  cabin  of  the  missionaries  became  a veritable 
hospital.  At  one  time  the  priests  were  all  down,  except 
Father  de  Brebeuf  and  two  others.  But  all  finally  recovered, 
and  rushed  to  the  care  of  the  sick  and  dying.  At  the  same 
time  every  village  resounded  with  the  orgies,  games,  feasts, 
and  other  rites  in  honor  of  the  Manitou,  Autoerhj,  ordered 
by  the  medicine-men,  in  whom  the  savages  had  unbounded 
confidence,  and  who  attributed  the  scourge  to  the  anger  of 
that  god. 

Amid  this  tumult,  the  missionaries  continued  their  task. 
The  catechumens  were  the  first  object  of  their  solicitude.  No 
efiort  was  spared  to  prevent  their  dying  unbaptized ; but 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  8.  J. 


385 


when  the  wretched  medicine-men  accused  the  Fathers  of 
being  the  authors  of  the  disease,  the  Indians  drove  the  latter 
from  their  wigwams. 

Singular  as  it  may  seem,  not  the  least  of  the  difficulties 
which  the  man  of  God  had  to  encounter,  was  to  represent 
himself  in  his  proper  character  to  this  ignorant,  sensual,  and 
superstitious  race.  Often  he  was  hated  and  persecuted  as 
a sort  of  superior  medicine-man  who  had  evil  designs  in 
visiting  the  Indians.  The  presence  of  “the  mysterious 
strangers  garbed  in  black,”  aroused  fear  and  suspicion. 
They  were  narrowly  watched.  Their  lives  were  in  con- 
stant peril. 

They  were  generally  held  accountable  for  all  the  misfor- 
tunes that  befell  the  village  in  which  they  had  come  to  make 
their  abode.  Sickness,  small-pox,  bad  crops,  want  of  suc- 
cess in  war — all  were  laid  to  the  charge  of  the  priests  ! Their 
clock,  beads,  crucifixes,  breviaries,  were  all,  in  turn,  sus- 
pected of  being  charms  for  the  destruction  of  the  red  race. 
Whole  tribes  came  to  regard  Baptism  with  horror,  as  a 
deadly  incantation.  One  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers  had  a little 
box  in  which  he  carried  his  stationery ; and  it  was  seriously 
thought  to  be  used  for  the  purpose  of  holding  the  souls  of 
dead  Indians,  which  he  bore  away,  and  tormented  for  his 
amusement ! 

In  short,  the  pagan  Indians  thought  that  the  missionaries 
were  mighty  magicians,  masters  of  life  and  death ; and  they 
came  to  them  for  spells — sometimes  to  destroy  their  enemies, 
and  sometimes  to  kill  grasshoppers.  It  took  years  of  in- 
struction and  sublime  example  to  eradicate  this  false  and 
ridiculous  impression  from  the  crude  savage  mind. 

After  toiling  three  years  among  the  Hurons,  the  new 
and  perilous  mission  of  the  Tobacco  Nation  fell  to  Father 
Jogues  and  Father  Gamier.  They  were  well  chosen;  and 
yet  neither  of  them  was  robust  by  nature,  in  body  or  mind, 
though  Jogues  was  noted  for  personal  activity.  The  To- 
bacco Nation  lay  at  the  distance  of  a two  days’  journey  from 
the  Huron  towns,  among  the  mountains  at  the  head  of 
Nottawassaga.  The  two  mis.sionaries  tried  to  find  a guide 


386 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  8.  J. 


at  Ossossane ; but  none  would  go  with  them,  and  they  set 
forth  on  their  wild  and  unknown  pilgrimage  alone. 

The  forests  were  full  of  snow ; and  the  soft,  moist  flakes 
were  still  falling  thickly,  obscuring  the  air,  beplastering  the 
gray  trunks,  weighing  to  the  earth  the  boughs  of  spruce  and 
pine,  and  hiding  every  footprint  of  the  narrow  path.  The 
Fathers  missed  their  way,  and  toiled  on  till  night,  shaking 
down  at  every  step  from  the  burdened  branches  a shower  of 
fleecy  white  on  their  black  cassocks.  Night  overtook  them 
in  a spruce  swamp.  Here  they  made  a fire  with  great  diffi- 
culty, cut  the  evergreen  boughs,  piled  them  for  a bed,  and 
lay  down.  The  storm  presently  ceased ; and,  “praised  be 
God,”  writes  one  of  the  travelers,  “we  passed  a very  good 
night.” 

In  the  morning  they  breakfasted  on  a morsel  of  corn  bread, 
and,  resuming  their  Journey,  fell  in  with  a small  paity  of 
Indians,  whom  they  followed  all  day  without  food.  At 
eight  in  the  evening  they  reached  the  first  Tobacco  town,  a 
miserable  cluster  of  bark  cabins,  hidden  among  forests  and 
half-buried  in  snow-drifts,  where  the  savage  children,  seeing 
the  two  black  apparitions,  screamed  that  Famine  and  Pest 
were  coming. 

Their  evil  fame  had  gone  before  them.  They  were  un- 
welcome guests ; nevertheless,  shivering  and  famished  as 
they  were,  in  the  cold  and  darkness,  they  boldly  pushed 
their  way  into  one  of  these  dens  of  barbarism.  It  was  pre- 
cisely like  a Huron  house.  Five  or  six  fires  blazed  on  the 
earthen  floor,  and  around  them  were  huddled  twice  that 
number  of  families,  sitting,  crouching,  standing,  or  flat  on 
the  ground  ; old  and  young,  women  and  men,  children  and 
dogs,  mingled  pell-mell. 

The  scene  would  have  been  a strange  one  by  daylight ; it 
was  doubly  so  by  the  flicker  and  glare  of  the  lodge-fires. 
Scowling  brows,  sidelong  looks  of  distrust  and  fear,  the 
screams  of  scared  children,  the  scowling  of  squaws,  the 
growling  of  wolfish  dogs — this  was  the  greeting  of  the 
strangers. 

The  chief  man  of  the  household  treated  the  priests  at 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOOUES,  S J 


387 


first  with  the  decencies  of  Indian  hospitality  ; but  when  he 
saw  them  kneeling  in  the  litter  and  ashes  at  their  devotions, 
his  suppressed  fears  found  vent,  and  he  began  a loud  ha' 
rangue,  addressed  half  to  them  and  half  to  the  Indians. 
“Now,  what  are  these  oTcies  doing?  They  are  making  charms 
to  kill  us,  and  destroy  all  that  the  pest  has  spared  in  this 
house.  I heard  that  they  were  sorcerers ; and  now,  when  it 
is  too  late,  I believe  it.”  It  is  wonderful  that  the  Fathers 
escaped  the  tomahawk.  Nowhere  is  the  power  of  courage, 
faith,  and  an  unflinching  purpose,  more  strikingly  displayed 
than  in  the  record  of  these  missions. 

In  other  Tobacco  towns  their  reception  was  much  the  same; 
but  at  the  largest,  called  by  them  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul, 
they  fared  worse.  They  reached  it  on  a winter  afternoon. 
Every  door  of  its  capacious  bark  houses  was  closed  against 
them ; and  they  heard  the  squaws  within  calling  on  the 
young  men  to  go  out  and  split  their  heads,  while  children 
screamed  abuse  at  the  black-robes.  As  night  approached, 
they  left  the  town,  when  a band  of  young  men  followed 
them,  hatchet  in  hand,  to  put  them  to  death.  Darkness, 
the  forest,  and  the  mountain  favored  them;  and  eluding 
their  pursuers,  they  escaped.  Thus  began  the  mission  of 
the  Tobacco  Nation.* 


1 Farkmaa. 


CHAPTER  II, 

A CAPTIVE  AMONG  THE  MOHAWKS, 


The  Cross  'planted  in  Michigan — The  Huron  missiorif^. 
Father  Jogues  on  his  way  to  Quebec — Is  taken  on  the 
return  voyage  by  the  Mohawks — Sufferings  and  adven- 
tures on  the  way  from  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the  land  of 
the  Mohawks — Lake  George — Revolting  tortures — The 
death  of  Goupil — The  martyr -mis sionary'’  s life  among 
the  savages — His  escape  and  arrival  in  New  Am- 
sterdam. 

In  the  fall  of  1641,  Father  Jogues  and  his  companion. 
Father  Raymbault,  passed  northward  along  the  shores  of 
Lake  Huron,  entered  the  strait  through  which  Lake  Su- 
perior discharges  itself,  pushed  on  as  far  as  Sault  Sainte  Marie, 
and  preached  the  Faith  to  two  thousand  Algonquin  Indians 
there  assembled.  The  chiefs  invited  the  Fathers  to  dwell 
among  them,  and  hopes  were  inspired  of  a permanent  mis- 
sion. “We  will  embrace  you,”  said  they,  “as  brothers; 
we  will  derive  profit  from  your  words.”  Thus  Father  Jogues 
was  the  first  to  plant  the  Cross  in  the  soil  of  Michigan.' 


' Thns  did  the  religious  zeal  of  the  French  bear  the  Cross  to  the  banks  of  the  St.  Mary  and  the 
confines  of  Lake  Superior  and  look  wistfully  towards  the  home  of  the  Sioux  in  the  valley  of 
the  Mississippi,  five  years  before  the  New  England  Elliot  had  addressed  the  tribe  of  Indians 
that  dwelt  within  six  miles  of  Boston  harbor.— 

The  “New  England  Elliot,”  should  not  be  mentioned  on  the  same  page  with  the  very  hum- 
bles; of  the  Jesuit  missionaries.  Did  he,  or  any  other  Protestant  minister,  ever  make  any  great 
sacrifices  for  the  spiritual  benefit  ol  the  Indians  f Did  he  “ leave  father  and  mother,  and  home 
and  wife,”  to  devote  himself,  body  and  soul,  for  their  salvation,  amid  “ perils  of  rivers,  in  perils 
o*  robbers,  in  perils  in  the  wilderness,  in  labors  and  painfulness,  in  watching  often,  in  hunger 
and  thirst,  in  many  fastings,  in  cold  and  in  nakedness  ?”  Was  ever  a Protestant  minister  known 
to  endure  all  this,  o.  even  any  considerable  portion  of  it,  for  the  love  of  Christ,  and  the  conver- 
sion of  the  heathen?  Ah  these  privations,  however,  the  Jesuits  cheerfully  endured,  and  many  of 
them  much  more  besides ; for  many  of  them  gladly  laid  down  their  lives  in  this  cause.  The 
first  missionaries  among  the  Hurons — Fathers  Daniel,  De  Brebeuf . and  Lallement — all  fell  glori- 
ous martyrs  to  then  devoted  zeal.  The  “New  England  Elliot"  is  not  known  to  have  pene- 
trated much  further  into  the  Indian  wilderness  than  six  miles  from  Boston  harbor  ; and  he  did 
very  little  and  succeeded  very  poorly,  even  when  he  reached  this  amazing  distance  from  home  1 
—ArchUihop  Spalding. 


888 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOOUES,  8.  J. 


389 


Reverses  were  now  beginning  to  overshadow  the  Huron 
mission.  It  was  in  a state  of  destitution.  There  was  need 
of  clothing  for  the  priests,  of  vessels  for  the  altars,  of  bread 
and  wine  for  the  Holy  Sacrifice,  of  writing  materials — in 
short,  of  everything.  Father  Jogues,  accompanied  by  a 
train  of  Indians,  was  sent  down  to  Quebec  for  supplies.  It 
was  a most  dangerous  journey,  at  that  time,  for  the  Iroquois 
were  ravaging  the  Huron  territory,  and  their  fierce  war-cry 
resounded  along  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence. 

Father  Jogues  arrived  at  Quebec  in  safety,  executed  his 
various  commissions,  and  prepared  to  return  with  the 
Hurons.  This  was  in  1642.  After  commending  themselves 
to  God,  the  party,  which  consisted  of  twelve  canoes,  set 
forth  on  the  return  voyage.  Having  reached  the  western 
extremity  of  Lake  St.  Peter,  the  frail  crafts  were  hugging 
the  shore  to  avoid  the  strong  currents  of  the  river,  when 
suddenly  the  war-whoop  of  the  Iroquois  rang  through  the  air, 
and  a shower  of  balls  rattled  about  them.  Several  canoes 
of  the  enemy,  filled  with  warriors,  pushed  out  from  their 
concealment,  and  bore  down  upon  the  devoted  Jogues  and 
his  companions.  In  a moment  the  pagan  Hurons  like 
shameful  cowards  leaped  from  the  canoe;  but  the  Jesuit, 
the  three  Freuchmen,  and  a few  Christian  Indians  with 
him,  “ offered  up  a prayer  to  Christ,  and  faced  the  enemy.” 
At  the  first  whistling  of  the  balls,  a catechumen  threw  him- 
self on  his  knees,  and  the  fearless  priest  baptized  him. 
About  a dozen  of  them  fought,  but  the  Iroquois  were 
seventy  in  number.  The  missionary  did  not  even  try  to 
escape.  Goupil  was  taken,  fighting  like  a lion. 

The  next  brought  in  was  a famous  Christian  chief,  Ahas- 
istari,  who  cried  out:  “My  Father,  did  I not  swear  to  live 
or  die  with  you!”  Finally,  Couture,  a young  Frenchman 
who  had  escaped,  came  back  and  gave  himself  up,  saying, 
“I  cannot  abandon  you,  my  dear  Father.”  This  heroism 
won  him  the  honor  of  torture.  The  Iroquois  stripped  him 
at  once,  tore  away  his  nails,  crushed  his  fingers  with  their 
teeth,  and  ran  a sword  through  his  right  hand;  and  Father 
Jogues,  who  consoled  the  brave  fellow,  was  also  violently 


390 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOOUES.  8.  J. 


attacked,  beaten  till  he  fell  senseless,  for  they  rushed  on 
him  like  wolves,  and,  not  content  with  blows,  tore  out  his 
nails,  and  gnawed  his  fingers  to  the  very  bone. 

The  Iroquois  now  embarked  with  their  prey ; but  not  un- 
til they  had  knocked  on  the  head  an  old  Huron,  whom 
Jogues,  with  his  mangled  hands,  had  just  baptized,  and 
who  refused  to  leave  the  place.  Then,  under  a burning 
sun,  they  crossed  to  the  spot  on  which  the  town  of  Sorel  ‘ 
now  stands,  at  the  mouth  of  the  River  Richelieu,  where  they 
encamped. 

Their  course  was  southward,  up  the  River  Richelieu  and 
Lake  Champlain ; thence,  by  way  of  Lake  George,  to  the 
Mohawk  towns.  The  pain  and  fever  of  their  wounds,  and 
the  clouds  of  mosquitoes,  which  they  could  not  drive  off,  left 
the  prisoners  no  peace  by  day  nor  sleep  by  night. 

On  the  eighth  day,  they  learned  that  a large  Iroquois  war- 
party,  on  their  way  to  Canada,'  were  near  at  hand ; and 
they  soon  approached  their  camp,  on  a small  island  near 
the  southern  end  of  Lake  Champlain.  The  warriors,  two 
hundred  in  number,  saluted  their  victorious  countrymen 
with  volleys  from  their  guns ; then,  armed  with  clubs  and 
thorny  sticks,  ranged  themselves  in  two  lines,  between 
which  the  captives  were  compelled  to  pass  up  the  side  of 
a rocky  hill.  On  the  way,  they  were  beaten  with  such  fury 
that  Jogues,  who  was  last  in  the  line,  fell  powerless, 
drenched  in  blood  and  half-dead.  As  the  chief  man 
amongst  the  French  captives,  he  fared  the  worst."  His 
hands  were  again  mangled,  and  fire  applied  to  his  body; 
while  the  Huron  chief,  Ahasistari,  was  subjected  to  tortures 
even  more  atrocious.  When  at  night  the  exhausted  suf- 
ferers tried  to  rest,  the  young  warriors  came  to  lacerate  their 
wounds  and  pull  out  their  hair  and  beards. 

In  the  morning  they  resumed  their  journey.  And  now 
the  lake  narrowed  to  the  semblance  of  a tranquil  river. 


The  town  of  Sorel  is  about  45  miles  below  Montreal,  at  the  month  of  the  Richelieu  river.  It 
occupies  the  site  of  the  old  fort  built  by  the  French  in  1665.  In  1871  its  population  was  5,636. 

’ *•  God  alone,’  he  afterwards  wrote  “ for  whose  love  and  glory  it  is  sweet  and  glorious  to  suf- 
fer, can  tell  what  cruelties  they  perpetrated  on  me  then.” 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOQUES,  8.  J. 


391 


Before  them  was  a woody  mountain,  close  on  their  right  a 
rocky  promontory,  and  between  these  flowed  a stream,  the 
outlet  of  Lake  George. 

On  those  rocks,  more  than  a hundred  years  after,  rose  the 
ramparts  of  Ticonderoga.  They  landed,  shouldered  their 
canoes  and  baggage,  took  their  way  through  the  woods, 
passed  the  spot  where  the  flerce  Highlanders  and  the  regi- 
ments of  England  breasted  in  vain  the  storm  of  lead  and 
fire,  and  soon  reached  the  shore  where  Abercrombie  landed 
and  Lord  Howe  fell. 

First  of  white  men,  Father  Jogues  and  his  companions 
gazed  on  the  romantic  lake  that  bears  the  name,  not  of  its 
gentle  discoverer,  but  of  the  dull  Hanoverian  King.  Like 
a fair  Naiad  of  the  wilderness,  it  slumbered  between  the 
guardian  mountains  that  breathe  from  crag  and  forest  the 
stern  poetry  of  war.  But  all  then  was  solitude;  and  the 
clang  of  trumpets,  the  roar  of  cannon,  and  the  deadly  crack 
of  the  rifle  had  never  as  yet  awakened  their  angry  echoes.* 

Again  the  canoes  were  launched,  and  the  wild  flotilla 
glided  on  its  way.  The  Iroquois  landed  at  or  near  the  fu- 
ture site  of  Fort  William  Henry,  left  their  canoes,  and, 
with  their  prisoners,  began  their  march  for  the  nearest  Mo- 
hawk town.  Each  bore  his  share  of  the  plunder.  Even 
Jogues,  though  his  lacerated  hands  were  in  a frightful  con- 
dition and  his  body  covered  with  bruises,  was  forced  to  stag- 
ger on  with  the  rest  under  a heavy  load.  He,  Avith  his  fel- 
low-prisoners, and  indeed  the  whole  party,  were  half-starved, 
subsisting  chiefly  on  wild  berries.  They  crossed  the  upper 
Hudson,  and,  in  thirteen  days  after  leaving  the  St.  LaAv- 


* Lake  George  is  a picturesque  sheet  of  water  in  the  State  of  New  York,  36  miles  loug  and 
from  three-fourths  of  a mile  to  4 miles  wide.  In  some  places  it  is  400  feet  deep.  It  discharges 
its  waters  into  Lake  Champlain  on  the  north.  It  is  remarkable  for  the  transparency  of  its  water, 
•ts  multitude  of  little  Islands,  popularly  supposed  to  correspond  in  number  with  the  days  of  the 
year.  Beautiful  is  the  scenery  on  its  shores.  Black  Mountain,  on  the  east  shore,  has  an  elevation 
of  about  '2,200  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  lake;  and  12  miles  distant  from  it  is  a very  steep  rock 
rising  200  feet  from  the  water,  down  which  it  is  said  Major  Rogers,  when  pursued  by  Indians 
during  the  French  war,  slid  and  landed  safely  on  the  ice.  Not  far  from  this  spot  is  the  place  where 
the  English  under  Lord  Howe  landed  previous  to  their  attack  on  the  French  stronghold.  Fort 
Ticonderoga.  The  ruins  of  that  fort  can  still  be  seen  at  the  east  end  of  the  narrow  channel 
throngh  which  the  waters  of  Lake  George  are  conveyed  to  LAke  Champlain.— .dmertcun 
Oydopxdia. 


392 


FATHEB.  ISAAC  JOOUE8,  3.  J. 


rence,  neared  the  wretched  goal  of  their  pilgrimage,  apalh 
saded  town,  standing  on  a hill  by  the  banks  of  the  River 
Mohawk. 

The  whoops  of  the  victors  announced  their  approach,  and 
the  savage  hive  sent  forth  its  swarms.  They  thronged  the 
side  of  the  hill,  the  old  and  the  young,  each  with  a stick  or 
a slender  iron  rod,  bought  from  the  Dutchmen  on  the  Hud- 
son. They  ranged  themselves  in  a double  line,  reaching 
upward  to  the  entrance  of  the  town;  and  through  this 
“narrow  road  of  Paradise,”  as  Jogues  calls  it,  the  captives 
were  led  in  single  file.  Couture  in  front,  after  him  a half- 
score of  Hurons,  then  Groupil,  then  the  remaining  Hurons, 
and  at  last  Jogues.  As  they  passed,  they  were  saluted 
with  yells,  screeches,  and  a tempest  of  blows.  One,  heavier 
than  the  others,  knocked  Jogues’  breath  from  his  body,  and 
stretched  him  on  the  ground;  but  it  was  death  to  lie  there, 
and,  regaining  his  feet,  he  staggered  on  with  the  rest. 

When  they  reached  the  town,  the  blows  ceased,  and  they 
were  all  placed  on  a scaffold,  or  high  platform,  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  place.  The  three  Frenchmen ' had  fared  the 
worst,  and  were  frigtfully  disfigured.  Goupil,  especially, 
was  streaming  with  blood,  and  livid  with  bruises  from  head 
to  foot. 

They  were  allowed  a few  minutes  to  recover  their  breath, 
undisturbed,  except  by  the  hooting  and  gibes  of  the  mob 
below.  Then  a chief  called  out:  “Come,  let  us  caress  these 
Frenchmen!” — and  the  crowd,  knife  in  hand,  began  to 
mount  the  scaffold.  They  ordered  a Christian  Algonquin 
woman,  a prisoner  among  them,  to  cut  off  Jogues’  left 
thumb,  which  she  did;  and  a thumb  of  Goupil  was  also 
severed,  a clam-shell  being  used  as  the  instrument,  in  order 
to  increase  the  pain.  It  is  needless  to  specify  further  the 
tortures  to  which  they  were  subjected,  all  designed  to  cause 
the  greatest  possible  suffering  without  endangering  life. 

At  night,  they  were  removed  from  the  scaffold,  and 
placed  in  one  of  the  houses,  each  stretched  on  his  back, 
with  his  limbs  extended  and  his  ankles  and  wrists  bound 


> JogneB,  Contnre,  and  OonpU. 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES.  S.  J. 


THE  APOSTLE  OF  THE  IROQUOIS. 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOOUES,  S.  J. 


393 


fast  to  stages  driven  into  the  earthen  floor.  The  children 
now  profited  by  the  examples  of  their  parents,  and  amused 
themselves  by  placing  live  coals  and  red-hot  ashes  on  the 
naked  bodies  of  the  prisoners,  who,  bound  fast,  and  cov- 
ered with  wounds  and  bruises,  which  made  every  move- 
ment a torture,  were  sometimes  unable  to  shake  them  off.' 

The  captives  were  led  about  to  other  villages,  but  in  all 
they  met  the  same  barbarous  treatment.  In  one  of  these 
the  scaffold  was  already  occupied  by  Huron  prisoners,  sev- 
eral of  whom  were  catechumens.  On  reaching  them,  Father 
Jogues  made  instant  inquiries  as  to  their  religion.  He 
heard  the  confessions  of  the  Christians,  and  prepared  the 
others  for  the  Sacrament  of  Baptism.  But  he  was  a pris- 
oner himself,  and  alas ! could  not  procure  a drop  of  water. 
At  the  moment,  however,  a warrior  passed  by,  and  threw 
him  a stalk  of  Indian  corn.  The  morning  dew  still 
glistened  on  the  bright  green  leaves.  The  Jesuit  used 
the  pearly  drops  so  as  to  baptize  two,  and  shortly  after,  while 
crossing  a stream,  he  conferred  the  Sacrament  on  another. 
Heaven  was  opened.  The  Mohawk  mission  had  commenced. 
A council  of  chiefs  was  held,  and  it  was  decreed  thac 
all  should  die;  but  on  further  consideration  the  French 
were  reserved  as  prisoners,  and  but  three  of  the  Huron s. 
were  sentenced  to  death.  Among  these  was  the  noble 
Christian  chief,  Ahasistari.’ 


' “ It  was  on  the  29th  of  September.  1^42."  writes  Father  Jogues,  “ that  this  angel  of  innocence 
this  martyr  of  Jesus  Christ,  at  the  age  of  thirty-five  years  was  immolated  to  Him  who  had  given 
his  life  for  his  redemption.  He  had  consecrated  his  heart  and  his  soul  to  God,  and  his  hand  and 
his  existence  to  the  sendee  of  the  poor  Indians."  Rene  Goupil  had  been  educated  for  the  mt*(  . 
cal  profession.  He  attached  himself  to  the  Canadian  ir.tssions  as  a donnF^  that  is  a man  \\hi> 
has  given  himself  to  the  mission  without  any  hope  of  earthly  reward."— See  Bressani  s Jielation 
Abregee  p 152;  and  Martin's  Vie  de  Isaac  Jogves^p.  335. 

The  brave  Conture  was  adoptedby  the  Mohawks,  but  did  not  live  long  among  them.  In  1649 
he  married  Anne  Aymart,  and  established  himself  at  Point  Leris,  opposite  Quebec,  where  he 
held  a government  position.  He  died  in  1702,  at  the  age  of  94  years.  His  descendants  are  numer- 
ous. Among  these  have  been  Mgr.  Turgeon,  Archbishop  of  Quebec,  and  Mgr.  Bourget.  Bishop  of 
Montreal.— A 661  Ferland. 

® Among  the  converts  made  by  the  illnstrions  De  Br^beuf  and  his  companions  of  the  Huron 
mission  there  is  none  that  stand  forth  so  prominently  in  the  records  of  the  time  as  Ahasistari. 
Nature  had  planted  in  his  mind  the  seeds  of  religious  faith.  “ Before  you  came  to  this  country, 
he  would  say  to  the  missionaries,  “ when  I have  incurred  the  greatest  perils  and  have  alone 
Mcapedvl  have  said  to  myself  : * Some  powerful  spirit  hae  the  guardianship  of  my  days  ; and' 


394 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOG UES,  8.  J. 


Father  Jogues,  to  quote  Parkman,  los^  no  opportunity  to 
baptize  dying  infants,  while  Goupil  taught  children  to  make 
the  sign  of  the  cross.  On  one  occasion  he  made  the  sign  on 
the  forehead  of  a child,  grandson  of  an  Indian  in  whose 
lodge  they  lived.  The  superstition  of  the  old  savage  was 
aroused;  some  Dutchmen  had  told  him  that  the  sign  of  the 
cross  came  from  the  devil,  and  would  cause  mischief.  He 
thought  that  Goupil  was  bewitching  the  child;  and,  resolv- 
ing to  rid  himself  of  so  dangerous  a guest,  applied  for  aid 
to  two  young  braves. 

Jogues  and  Goupil,  clad  in  their  squalid  garb  of  tat- 
tered skins,  were  soon  after  walking  together  in  the  for- 
est that  adjoined  the  town,  consoling  themselves  with 
prayer,  and  mutually  exhorting  each  other  to  suffer  pa- 
tiently for  the  sake  of  Christ  and  His  Holy  Mother,  when, 
as  they  were  returning,  reciting  their  rosaries,  they  met 
the  two  youDg  Indians,  and  read  in  their  sullen  visages 
an  augury  of  ill. 

The  Indians  joined  them,  and  accompanied  them  to  the 
entrance  of  the  town,  where  one  of  the  two,  suddenly  draw- 
ing a hatchet  from  beneath  his  blanket,  struck  it  into  the 
head  of  Goupil,  who  fell,  murmuring  the  name  of  Christ.' 
Jogues  dropped  on  his  knees,  and,  bowing  his  head  in 
prayer,  awaited  the  blow,  when  the  murderer  ordered  him 
to  get  up  and  go  home.  He  obeyed,  but  not  until  he  had 
given  absolution  to  his  still  breathing  friend,  and  presently 


he  professed  his  belief  in  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  good  genius  and  protector  whom  he  had  before  un- 
consciously adored.  After  trials  of  his  sincerity,  he  was  baptized;  and  enlisting  a troop  ot  con- 
verts, savages  like  himself,  “ Let  us  strive,”  he  exclaimed,  “ to  make  the  whole  world  embrace  tha 
faith  in  Jesus.”— 

> Rene  Goupil,  or  “the  good  Rene,”  as  all  called  him,  was  a native  of  Angers,  and  educated  as 
a physician.  He  entered  the  Society  of  Jesus,  but  was  compelled  to  leave  from  want  oi  health. 
On  hie  recovery,  he  offered  himself  as  a donne  to  the  Canadian  mission.  He  here  rendered  sig- 
nal service,  especially  in  the  care  of  the  sick,  and  was  admired  by  all  for  his  goodness,  piety, 
zea'.,  and  devotion.  He  was  put  to  death  September  29th,  1642,  The  fullest  sketch  of  his  life  is  in 
a manuscript  of  Father  Jogues  ; and  that  illustrious  missionary  does  not  hesitate  to  call  him  “ a 
martyr,  not  only  to  obedience,  hut  also  to  Faith  and  the  Cross."— S/iea. 

The  brave  Couture  was  adopted  by  the  Mohawks,  but  did  not  live  long  among  them.  In  1649 
he  married  Anne  Aymart,  and  established  himself  at  Point  Levis,  opposite  Quebec,  where  he 
held  a government  position.  He  died  in  1702,  at  the  age  of  94  years.  His  descendants  are  numer- 
ous. Among  these  have  been  Mgr.  Turgeon,  Arclibisliop  of  Quebec,  and  Mgr.  Bourget,  Bishop  ot 
Montreal.— A6de  Ferland. 


FATHER  ISAAC  J0GUE8.  8.  J 


396 


saw  the  lifeless  body  dragged  through  the  town  amid  boot- 
ings and  rejoicings. 

Jogues  passed  a night  of  anguish  and  desolation,  and  in 
the  morning  set  forth  in  search  of  Groupil’ s remains.  “ Where 
are  you  going  so  fast?”  demanded  the  old  Indian,  his  mas- 
ter. “Do  you  not  see  those  fierce  young  braves,  who  are 
watching  to  kill  you  ? ’ The  heroic  priest  persisted,  and  the 
old  man  asked  another  Indian  to  go  with  him  as  a pro- 
tector. 

The  corpse  had  been  flung  into  a neighboring  ravine,  at 
the  bottom  of  which  ran  a torrent;  and  here,  with  the  In- 
dian’s help,  Jogues  found  it,  stripped  naked  and  gnawed  by 
dogs  He  dragged  it  into  the  water,  and  covered  it  with 
stones,  to  save  it  from  further  mutilation,  resolving  to  return 
alone  on  the  following  day  and  secretly  bury  it.  But  with 
the  night  there  came  a storm;  and  when,  in  the  gray  of  the 
morning,  Jogues  descended  to  the  brink  of  the  stream,  he 
found  it  a rolling,  turbid  flood,  and  the  body  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen. 

Had  the  Indians  or  the  torrent  borne  it  away?  Jogues 
waded  into  the  cold  current;  it  was  the  1st  of  October;  he 
sounded  it  with  his  feet  and  with  his  stick;  he  searched  the 
rocks,  the  thicket,  the  forest,  but  all  in  vain.  Then, 
crouched  by  the  pitiless  stream,  he  mingled  his  tears  with 
its  waters,  and,  in  a voice  broken  with  groans,  chanted  the 
service  of  the  dead. 

The  Indians,  it  proved,  and  not  the  flood,  had  robbed 
him  of  the  remains  of  his  friend.  Early  in  the  spring, 
when  the  snows  were  melting  in  the  woods,  he  was  told  by 
Mohawk  children  that  the  body  was  lying,  where  it  had 
been  flung,  in  a lonely  spot  lower  down  the  stream.  He 
went  to  seek  it;  found  the  scattered  bones,  stripped  by  the 
foxes  and  the  birds;  and,  tenderly  gathering  them  up,  hid 
them  in  a hollow  tree,  hoping  that  a day  might  come  when 
he  could  give  them  a Christian  burial  in  consecrated  ground. 

After  the  murder  of  Goupil,  Father  Jogues’  life  hung  by 
a hair.  He  lived  in  hourly  expectation  of  the  tomahawk, 
and  would  have  welcomed  it  as  a boon.  By  signs  and 


S96 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOOUBS,  8.  J. 


words,  he  was  warned  that  his  hour  was  near;  but,  as  he 
never  shunned  his  fate,  it  fled  from  him,  and  each  day, 
with  renewed  astonishment,  he  found  himself  still  among 
the  living.' 

Now  solitary  amid  the  Mohawks,  the  man  of  God  devoted 
his  leisure  moments  to  the  spiritual  comfort  of  the  Huron 
captives,  who  were  scattered  through  the  towns.  The  Mo- 
hawk dialect  differed  so  much  from  the  Huron,  that  he  was 
unable  to  address  himself  on  religious  topics  to  the  natives; 
and,  as  he  daily  expected  death,  he  deemed  it  useless  to  at- 
tempt a comparison  of  the  two  dialects.  Led  as  a slave  to 
the  hunting-grounds,  he  drew  on  himself  ill  treatment  and 
threats  of  death  by  his  firmness  in  refusing  to  touch  food 
which  had  been  offered  to  the  demon  of  che  forest.’  He 
also  excited  the  ill-will  of  the  fierce  savages  by  his  constant 
prayer  before  a rude  cross  carved  on  a tree. 

But  he  bore  his  load  of  griefs  manfully;  and  found  solace 
in  his  sorrows  by  reflecting  that  he  alone,  in  that  vast  re- 
gion, adored  the  Creator  of  earth  and  heaven.  Eoaming 
through  the  stately  forests  of  the  Mohawk  valley,  he  wrote 
the  name  of  Jesus  on  the  bark  of  trees,  engraved  crosses, 
and  entered  into  possession  of  these  countries  in  the  name 
of  God  — often  lifting  up  his  voice  in  a solitary  chant. 
What  a theme  for  the  pen,  what  a subject  for  the  pencil — 
this  living  martyr,  half -clad  in  shaggy  furs,  kneeling  on  the 
snow  among  the  icicled  rocks,  and  beneath  the  gloomy 
pines,  bowing  in  adoration  before  the  glorious  emblem  of  the 
Faith,  in  which  was  his  only  hope  and  his  only  consolation! 


* “ The  Jesuits  in  North  America.” 

* Late  in  tihe  autumn,  a party  of  Indians  set  forth  on  their  yearly  deer-hunt,  and  Jogues  was  or- 
iered  to  go  with  them.  Shivering  and  half-famished,  he  followed  them  through  the  chill  No- 
vember fore.st,  and  shared  their  wild  bivouac  in  the  depths  of  the  winter  desolation.  The  game 
they  took  was  devoted  to  Areskoni,  their  god.  and  eaten  in  his  honor.  Jogues  would  not  taste  the 
meat  offered  to  a demon;  and  thus  he  starved  in  the  midst  of  plenty.  At  night,  when  the  kettle 
was  slung,  and  the  savage  crew  made  merry  around  their  fire,  he  crouched  in  a comer  of  the  hut, 
gnawed  by  hunger,  and  pierced  to  the  bone  with  cold.  They  thought  his  presence  unpropitious 
to  their  hunting,  and  the  women  especially  hated  him.  His  demeanor  at  once  astonished  and  in- 
censed his  masters.  He  brought  them  firewood,  like  a squaw;  he  did  their  bidding  without  a 
murmur,  and  patiently  bore  their  abuse;  but  when  they  mocked  at  his  God,  and  laughed  at  his 
devotions,  their  slave  assumed  an  air  and  tone  of  authority,  and  sternly  rebuked  them.— 
Parkman. 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  S.  J. 


39  > 

As  time  passed,  however,  Father  Jogues  became  more 
familiar  with  the  Mohawk  language.  He  could  converse 
a little.  The  chiefs  began  to  respect  him,  and  as  he  showed 
no  disposition  to  escape,  he  was  allowed  a large  liberty. 
Nor  was  he  slow  in  availing  himself  of  this  privilege.  He 
visited  other  towns,  and  when  he  passed,  God  passed  with 
him.  He  ministered  to  Christian  prisoners,  often  prepar- 
ing them  for  eternity  amid  the  very  flames.  He  baptized  in- 
fants in  danger  of  death  ; and  when  grace  touched  the 
pagan  heart,  he  was  consoled  by  a conversion.  Thus  not 
without  fruit  was  the  captivity  of  the  martyr-missionary. 

He  accompanied  his  Indian  masters  on  several  trading  ex- 
cursions to  the  Dutch  settlement  of  Rensselaerswyck.’  It 
was  while  here  in  August,  1643,  that  Jogues  wrote  the  fam- 
ous letter  to  his  Provincial,  in  which  he  recounts,  in  ele- 
gant Latin,  the  scenes  and  sufferings  that  had  marked  the 
days  of  his  captivity.’ 

But  scarcely  was  the  ink  dry  on  his  letter,  when  the 
Jesuit  learned  that  the  Indians  were  plotting  his  destruc- 
tion. Some  of  the  principal  Dutch  inhabitants  pressed  him 
to  escape,  and  kindly  offered  him  every  aid  in  their  power. 
The  priest,  however,  hesitated,  and  spent  a night  in  prayer 
before  coming  to  any  decision.  He  concluded  that  it  was  the 
will  of  God  to  embrace  the  opportunity  given  him. 

But  the  heroic  missionary  passed  through  many  an  adven- 
ture and  “hair-breadth  escape”  before  regaining  his  lib- 
erty. On  one  occasion,  while  crossing  a fence,  he  was 
severely  bitten  in  the  leg  by  a fierce  dog.  He  was  stowed 
away  for  several  days  in  the  bottom  of  a boat  in  the  river, 

‘ Now  Albany.— “The  centre  of  this  rude  little  settlement,”  says  Parkman,  “was  Fort 
Orange,  a miserable  structure  of  logs,  standing  on  a spot  now  within  the  limits  of  the  city  of 
Albany.  It  contained  several  houses  and  other  bnildings  ; and  behind  it  was  a small  church,  re- 
cently erected,  and  serving  as  the  abode  of  the  pastor,  Dominie  Megapolensis,  knowm  in  our 
day  as  the  writer  of  an  interesting,  though  short  account  of  the  Mohawks.  Some  25  or  30  houses, 
roughly  built  with  boards  and  roofed  with  thatch,  were  scattered  at  intervals  on  or  near  the 
borders  of  the  Hudson,  above  and  below  the  fort.  Their  inhabitants,  about  100  in  number, 
were  for  the  most  part  rude  Dutch  farmers,  tenants  of  Van  Rensselaer,  the  patroon,  or  lord  of 
the  manor.” — The  JesuiU  in  North  America.  Such  was  the  capital  of  the  State  of  New  York 
in  1643. 

> It  is  dated  the  colony  of  Senstelaersieich,  In  New  Belgium,  the  5th  of  Auguet,  1648." 
This  letter  fills  from  page  120  to  page  173  of  Bressani’s  Belation  Abregee,  where  a French  tranfi- 
lation  is  given. — See  Martin's  new  edition. 


398 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  S.  J. 


and  as  the  weather  was  excessively  warm,  he  got  nearly  suffo- 
cated. Furious  at  his  escape,  the  savages  ransacked  the 
settlement.  The  officers  of  the  boat  were  terrified,  and 
Jogues,  for  greater  safety,  was  placed  in  the  garret  of  an  old 
house  in  Fort  Orange.  He  was  visited  in  this  hiding-place 
by  the  minister,  Megapolensis,  who,  to  this  honor  be  it  said, 
treated  him  with  extreme  kindness. 

As  the  clamors  of  the  Indians  for  their  captive  redoubled, 
and  each  interview  grew  more  boisterous  than  the  last,  the 
Dutch  friends  of  the  Jesuit  determined  once  for  all  to  take  a 
bold  stand.  “The  Frenchman  for  whom  you  search,”  ex- 
claimed a brave  Hollander,  “is  under  my  protection,  and  I 
shall  not  give  him  up.”  He  then  reasoned  with  the  noisy 
savages,  and  finished  by  saying:  “Here  is  money  for  the 
ransom  of  your  prisoner,”  handing  them  the  sum  of  three 
hundred  livres.  This  manly,  generous  action  gave  Father 
Jogues  his  freedom.'  He  boarded  a small  vessel,  and  was 
soon  carried  down  the  lordly  stream ; and  thus  for  the  first 
time  a Catholic  priest  passed  along — 

" Where  Hudson’s  wave  o’er  silvery  sands 
Winds  through  the  hills  afar.” 


■ Father  Jogaes’  captivity  among  the  Mohawks  lasted  fifteen  months,  daring  which  time  be 
baptized  aboat  seventy  persons. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  GLORIOUS  END. 

Nm  TorTc  City  two  centuries  and  a half  ago— Two  Cath- 
olics—A pious  Irishman— Father  Jogues  is  wrecked  on 
the  English  coast — Lands  in  France  on  Christmas  Day 
—Pathetic  incidents— At  the  College  of  Rennes— The 
nation  honors  him  as  a saint  and  martyr — Returns  to 
Canada— Again  among  the  Alohawks— Returns  to  Que- 
bec—Comes  back  as  an  apostle — The  glorious  death 
of  Father  Jogues. 

On  arriving  at  New  Amsterdam,'  Father  Jogues  was  re- 
ceived with  much  honor  by  Governor  Kieft,  with  whom  he 
remained  for  some  time.  This  was  in  the  fall  of  1645.  Man- 
hattan Island  was  then  a rude  place,  containing  about  live 
hundred  inhabitants,  a motley  crowd  of  many  nationalties. 
The  Governor  informed  Father  Jogues  that  eighteen  lan- 
guages were  spoken  in  their  midst.  The  good  Jesuit  found 
just  two  Catholics — a young  Irishman  and  a Portuguese 
woman.’  The  good,  warm-hearted  son  of  Erin  had  the 
honor  and  happiness  of  making  his  confession,  and  receiv- 
ing absolution  from  the  martyr-missionary  of  the  fierce  Mo- 

• Notv  New  York  City. 

• Of  these  two,  Father  Martin,  S.  J.,  in  his  “ Vie  de  Pere  Jogves,"  writes:  Son  embarras  fut 
^and  avec  nne  femme  d’origine  portngaise.  En  entrant  dans  une  maison  pres  du  fort,  il  avail 
dtd  agreablement  snrpris  de  voir  sur  la  cheminde  denx  images,  I une  de  la  Sainte  Vierge,  I'autre 
de  Saint  Louis  de  Qonzagne ; il  interroge  et  apprend  que  la  maftresse  du  logis  dtait  la  femme  dn 
porte-enseigne  et  qn’elle  dtait  catholique.  Malhenreusement  elle  ne  savait  aucune  des  langues 
que  parlait  le  P.  Jogues. 

n tronva  plus  de  consolation  dans  ses  rapports  avec  nn  bon  catholique  irlandais,  qni  arriva  sur 
ces  entrefaites  des  cOtes  de  la  Virginie.  A la  nonvelle  de  la  presence  d’un  pretre  catholique,  id 
n’eut  lien  de  plus  presse  que  de  manifester  au  servitciir  de  Dieu  tout  I'interet  qu’il  prenait  a son 
»ort,  et  de  profltrr  de  son  ijinistdre  pour  approchcr  dts  sacraments.  C’est  par  Ini  que  le  P 
Jogues  apprit  les  progres  de  la  foi  dans  cetie  colo.iie  ang  aise  des  bords  de  Chesapeake.  Fondde 
depiiis  pen  d’anrde  par  nn  lord  catholique  qni  fuyait  sa  patrie  pour  jouir  de  la  liberte  religieuse 
et  viTTe  en  paix  dans  sa  fol  elle  prit  le  nom  de  Maryland,  en  I’honneur  de  la  reine  Henriett** 
Maria 


399 


400 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOOUES,  S.  J. 


hawks,  the  first  priest  who  ever  set  foot  on  Manhattan 
Island.  This  was  the  first  time  the  Sacrament  of  Penance 
was  administered  in  the  great  commercial  Metropolis  of 
America,  which  is  now  the  see  of  a Cardinal- Archbishop,  and 
contains  fifty  Catholic  Churches. 

The  hospitable  Dutch  Governor  gave  Father  Jogues  anew 
suit  of  clothes — something  he  was  painfully  in  need  of — and 
procured  him  a passage  in  the  first  ship  bound  for  the 
shores  of  beautiful  France.  A storm  drove  the  vessel  on 
the  English  coast,  and  the  martyr  Jesuit  fell  into  the  hands 
of  some  thievish  wreckers — a class  of  men  little  removed  in 
barbarism  from  the  Mohawks  that  ranged  the  forests  of 
New  York.  He  was  stripped  of  everything  in  his  posses- 
sion. Even  his  clothes  were  not  spared.  After  many  hard- 
ships, however,  he  found  his  way  across  the  English  Chan- 
nel, in  a collier’s  bark,  and  was  landed  on  the  shores  of 
Brittany,  on  Christmas  Day,  1643. 

In  a rude  sailor’ s coat,  dragging  himself  along  with  pain, 
aided  by  a staff,  the  venerable  priest  was  no  longer  recognized. 
Hospitality  was  cordially  extended  to  him  in  a peasant’s 
cot;  here  he  was  invited  to  share  the  simple  morning  meal, 
but  the  missionary’s  only  thought  was  to  celebrate  duly  the 
festival  by  receiving  the  Blessed  Eucharist.  He  had  the 
nearest  church  pointed  out,  and  there  had  the  supreme  hap- 
piness of  approaching  the  holy  altar.  For  nearly  a year 
and  a half  he  had  been  deprived  of  Communion. 

The  good  Bretons  lent  him  a hat  and  a little  cloak  to  ap- 
pear more  decently  in  Church.  They  thought  him  to  be 
one  of  those  unfortunate  children  of  Catholic  Erin,  whom 
persecution  frequently  drove  to  the  shores  of  France;  but, 
when  on  his  return  from  Mass,  his  charitable  hosts  saw  the 
frightful  condition  of  his  hands.  Father  Jogues  was  com- 
pelled to  satisfy  their  pious  curiosity,  by  modestly  relating 
his  history.  The  peasants  of  Leon  fell  at  his  feet,  overcome 
with  pity  and  admiration.  He  himself  relates  how  the 
young  girls,  moved  by  the  story  of  his  misfortunes,  gave 
him  their  little  alms.  “They  came,”  he  says,  “with  so 
much  generosity  and  modesty  to  offer  me  two  or  three 


THE  PALISADES  OF  THE  HUDSON 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  8.  J. 


401 


pence,  which  was  probably  all  their  treasure,  that  I was 
moved  to  tears.” 

By  the  assistance  of  these  good  peasants.  Father  Jogues 
was  enabled  to  reach  the  city  of  Rennes,  which  contained 
a college  of  the  Society.  It  was  early  morning,  and  when 
the  porter  came  to  the  door  to  answer  the  call,  he  beheld  a 
poor  and  almost  deformed  beggar.  The  stranger  humbly 
asked  if  he  could  see  the  Rector.  The  porter  hastily  an 
swered  that  he  was  about  to  say  Mass,  and  could  not  be 
seen  at  that  hour.  ‘‘But,”  persisted  the  stranger,  “tell 
, him  that  a poor  man  from  Canada  would  gladly  speak  with 
him.”  When  the  porter  whispered  the  message,  the  Father 
Rector  was  putting  on  his  vestments.  At  the  name  of 
'“Canada,”  which  was  then  the  great  missionary  field  of 
the  French  Jesuits,  the  Superior  disrobed,  and  proceeded 
to  the  parlor.  The  poor  and  ragged  traveler  handed  him  a 
certificate  of  character  from  Governor  Kieft.  Without  even 
glancing  at  it,  the  Rector  hastily  inquired: 

“Are  you  from  Canada?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do  you  know  Father  Jogues?” 

“Very  well.” 

“The  Iroquois  have  taken  him,”  continued  the  Rector; 
“is  he  dead?  Have  they  murdered  him?” 

“No,”  answered  Jogues,  “he  is  alive,  and  at  liberty,  and 
I am  he.”  And  as  he  uttered  these  words  he  fell  upon  his 
knees,  asking  the  benediction  of  his  Superior.  . . . 

That  was  a day  of  almost  boundless  joy  in  the  College  of 
Rennes.  Nor  was  there  less  rejoicing  among  his  fellow- 
religious  over  all  France.  He  was  supposed  to  be  dead,  and 
his  sudden  reappearance  among  them  was  something  extra- 
ordinary. 

At  the  French  Court  he  was  received  as  a saint  and  mar- 
tyr. Queen  Ann  of  Austria  kissed  his  mutilated  hands. 
The  nobility  and  ladies  of  the  Court  vied  in  exhibiting  their 
deep  sentiments  of  respect  and  veneration.  Indeed,  the 
slave  of  the  Mohawks  became  the  revered  and  “admired 
of  all  admirers.”  The  Pope  granted  him  a dispensation  to 


402 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  S.J. 


celebrate  Mass  with  his  mutilated  hands,  saying  : “It  would 
be  unjust  to  refuse  a martyr  of  Christ  the  privilege  of 
drinking  the  Blood  of  Christ.” 

It  was  the  earnest  desire  of  all  that  Father  Jogues  should 
remain  in  France ; but  he  sighed  after  the  American  mis- 
sions, and  returned  to  Canada  in  1645.  In  July  of  the  fol- 
lowing year  he  was  present  at  the  peace  negotiations  at 
Three  Rivers  between  the  French  and  Hurons  on  one  side 
and  the  Mohawks  on  the  other.  This  event  led  the  apos- 
tolic priest  to  conceive  bright  hopes  of  founding  a perma- 
nent mission  among  the  Iroquois. 

In  May,  1646,  he  set  out  with  a companion  for  the 
Mohawk  castles,  in  order  to  confirm  the  peace  already  made. 
He  went  less  as  a missionary  than  as  an  ambassador.  He 
even  laid  aside  his  religious  habit  on  this  occasion,  for  an 
Algonquin  chief  urged  it,  saying:  “There  is  nothing  more 
repulsive  at  first  than  this  doctrine,  which  seems  to  extermi- 
nate all  that  men  hold  dearest ; and  since  your  long  gown 
preaches  it  as  much  as  your  lips,  you  had  better  go  in  a 
short  coat.”  On  this  journey  he  reached  the  portage  of 
Lake  George  on  the  eve  of  the  festival  of  Corpus  Christi, 
and  named  it  Lac  Saint  Sacrament^  or  Lake  of  the  Holy 
Sacrament. 

He  visited  Fort  Orange,  and  spent  some  days  with  the 
kind  Dutch  friends  to  whom  he  owed  his  life.  Then 
passing  further  up,  he  soon  reached  the  first  Mohawk 
town.  The  French  embassy  was  well  received.  After  a 
council  and  much  smoking  of  pipes,  the  priest,  as  am- 
bassador from  the  French,  began  to  harangue  the  dusky 
assembly.  Grunts  of  applause  kept  pace  with  his  periods, 
and  the  usual  presents  were  made  with  great  formality. 
Having  thus  established  peace  on  what  he  considered  a firm 
basis.  Father  Jogues  returned  to  Canada,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  making  all  necessary  preparations  for  the  conver- 
sion of  the  fierce  Mohawks.  He  set  out  again  with  three  or 
four  Hurons  and  a donne  of  the  mission,  named  Lalande,  in 
August,  1646.  The  brave  missionary  had  a singular  pre- 
sentiment of  his  fate,  for  previous  to  leaving  Canada  he 


FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  S.J. 


403 


wrote  to  a friend:  I shall  go,  hut  shall  not  return."' 

It  was  only  too  true.  On  the  way,  some  Indians  crossed 
their  path,  and  warned  them  that  a change  of  feeling  had 
taken  place  among  the  Mohawks.  The  Hurons  fled  on  hear- 
ing such  news,  but  Father  Jogues  and  his  young  companion, 
Lalande,  pressed  on.  Scarcely,  however,  had  the  two 
travellers  reached  the  confines  of  the  Mohawk  territory 
when  their  danger  became  apparent. 

A little  box,  which  the  Jesuit  had  left  behind  on  his  first 
visit,  was  now  returned.  The  savages  considered  it  the 
secret  cause  of  much  mischief.  The  bad  crops,  the  sickness, 
and  all  the  misfortunes  that  had  recently  befallen  the  nation, 
were  attributed  to  the  mysterious  box ! It  sealed  the 
martyr’s  fate. 

A band  of  warriors  seized  the  priest  and  his  companion, 
stripped  them,  and  hurried  them  to  the  nearest  town.  A 
barbarous  crowd  gathered,  howling  like  ferocious  beasts.  A 
furious  savage  sprang  on  Jogues,  and  cut  strips  of  flesh 
from  his  back  and  arms,  exclaiming ; “ Let  us  see  if  this 
white  flesh  is  the  flesh  of  a manitou  !” 

“I  am  a man,  like  yourselves,”  replied  the  intrepid 
Jesuit;  “but  I fear  neither  death  nor  torture.  Why  do 
you  kiU  me  ? I have  come  to  your  country  to  confirm 
peace,  to  strengthen  the  land,  and  to  show  you  the  way 
to  Heaven,  and  you  treat  me  like  a dog.’” 

The  star  of  Father  Jogues’  earthly  hope  had  set.  He 
looked  but  to  Heaven.  Like  our  dear.  Divine  Lord,  he  was 
to  water  the  scene  of  his  labors,  captivity,  and  sufferings 
with  the  last  drops  of  his  blood.  In  the  evening,  smarting 
with  his  wounds  and  bruises,  he  was  sitting  in  one  of  the 
lodges,  when  an  Indian  entered  and  asked  him  to  a feast. 
To  refuse  would  have  been  an  offence.  He  arose  and  fol- 
lowed the  savage,  who  led  him  to  the  lodge  of  the  ‘ ‘ Bear’  ’ 
Chief.  The  missionary  bent  his  head  to  enter,  when  an- 

* “ Le  coenr  one  dit  qne  si  jai  le  bien  d’etre  employe  dans  cette  mission,  ibo  et  non  redibo;  mais 
Je  serais  heureux  si  Notre-Seignenr  voniait  achever  le  sacrifice  la  ou  il  I'a  commence  et  que  le  pen 
de  sang  repandn  en  cette  terre  ffit  comme  les  arrbes  de  celni  qne  je  Ini  dounerais  de  toulee  lea 
Veines  de  mon  corps.” 

• See  Kartin's  B.  P.  Uaac  Jogues,  p.  275. 


-404 


'FATHER  ISAAC  JOGUES,  S.J. 


Other  Indian,  standing  concealed  within,  at  the  side  of  the 
doorway,  struck  him  with  a hatchet.  An  Iroquois,  called 
by  the  French,  Le  Berger,  who  seems  to  have  followed  in 
order  to  defend  him,  bravely  held  out  his  arm  to  ward  off 
the  blow  ; but  the  hatchet  cut  through  it,  and  sank  into  the 
martyr’s  brain.  He  fell  at  the  feet  of  his  murderer,  who  at 
once  finished  the  awful  work  by  hacking  off  his  victim's 
head.'  The  saintly  and  immortal  Jogues  was  no  more  ! His 
head  was  placed  high  on  the  palisades,  with  the  face  turned 
towards  the  road  by  which  he  had  come  to  the  land  of  the 
Mohawks." 

• Parkinan. 

’ The  young  and  faithful  Lalande  also  bravely  met  death. 

The  Indian,  Le  Berger,  voluntarily  came  to  Three  Rivers  two  y3ar8  afterwards,  and  gave 
himself  up  to  a party  of  Frenchmen.  He  was  converted,  baptized,  and  carried  to  France,  where 
his  behavior  is  reported  to  have  been  edifying,  but  where  he  soon  died.  “ Perhaps  he  had 
taten  his  share  of  more  than  fifty  men,"  is  the  reflection  of  Father  Rageuneau,  after  recouiitiiiii 
kis  exemplary  conduct. — Pariman. 

f he  date  oi  Father  Jogues’  glocioua  death  was  the  of  October,  16A 


-ATHER  JOHN  DE  BREBEUF,  S.  J. 


POUNDER  OF  THE  HURON  MISSION. 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BRfiBEUF,  S.  J., 

THE  APOSTLE  OF  THE  HURONS.‘ 


CHAPTER  L 

THIRTY-SIX  EVENTFUL  YEARS. 

The  Pioneer  Jesuits  of  North  America — John  de  Brebeuf 
— His  birth — His  family — Enters  the  Society  of  Jesus— 
His  humility — Goes  to  Canada — Hardships — Is  sent 
on  the  Huron  Mission — Among  the  red  men — All  alone 
— His  recall  to  Quebec — Returns  to  France. 

After  carefully  examining  the  lives  of  the  early  Jesuit 
Fathers  in  North  America,  the  historical  student  is  forced 
to  the  conclusion  that  they  were  a band  of  almost  incompar 
able  men.  The  more  thoroughly  the  records  containing  theii 
history  are  sifted  and  scrutinized,  the  more  firmly  does  this 
conviction  become  rooted  in  the  mind.  Though  differing  in 
ability,  physical  strength,  and  personal  character,  there  is,, 
however,  one  shining  quality  possessed  in  common  by  them 
all — the  most  lofty  Christian  heroism.  Men  more  capable 
of  attracting  our  admiration,  and  "whose  glorious  footsteps 
point  out  the  way  to  Heaven,  were  not  produced,  even  in 
the  first  ages  of  Christianity. 

The  biography  of  Father  John  de  Brebeuf  is  not,  indeed. 


• Chief  anthorities  need:  Father  Felix  Martin,  S.  J.,  "Le  B.  Jean  de  Brebeuf,  sa  vie,  sea 
travanx,  son martj’re;”  “Relations  des  Jesuites,”  Father  Bressani,  S.  J..  "Relation  Abregee, 
traduite  de  I’ltallen  par  le  Pere  Felix  Martin,  de  la  mSme  Compagnie  (nonvelle  edition. 

Al)b6  Ferland,  “Conrs  d'Histoire  du  Canada;”  Parkman,  “The  Jesuits  in  North  America:” 
Parkman,  "The  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New  World;”  Parkman,  “The  Old  Regime  in 
Canada;”  Kip,  “ Early  Jesuit  Missions  in  N.  America;”  Father  Macleod,  “ History  of  Devotion  to 
the  Blessed  Virgin  in  North  America;”  “ History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  states.'’ 

4oa 


406 


FATHER  JOHN  BE  BREBEITF,  8.  J. 


found  in  Butl«:’s  “Lives  of  the  Saints;”  but,  perhaps,  >v0 
might  search  in  vain  through  that  excellent  work  for  any- 
thing to  surpass  it  in  sublime  interest.  In  his  towering  figure, 
ii'on  frame,  and  supernatural  gifts,  he  resembled  St.  Columb- 
kille ; in  his  rare  meekness,  kindness,  and  great  practical 
sense,  he  was  not  unlike  St.  Francis  de  Sales ; while  his  lion 
heart  and  martyr-spirit  would,  in  truth, have  done  honor  to 
St.  Lawrence.  We  shall  glance  at  the  career  of  this  illus- 
trious priest,  who  stands  forth  in  the  religious  annals  of  the 
seventeenth  century  as  the  prince  of  Indian  missionaries — 
the  greatest  of  the  American  Jesuits. 

John  de  Brebeuf  was  born  on  the  25th  of  March,  1593,  in 
Conde-sur-Vivre,  Department  of  La  Manche,  France.  His 
family  was  ancient  and  noble.*  It  had  given  Normandy 
many  a brave  soldier  and  fearless  knight.  Of  John’s  young 
years  we  have  no  record.  At  the  age  of  twenty-four,  ho .. 
ever,  he  entered  the  novitiate  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  Rouen; 
and  such  was  his  humility  that  he  requested  to  be  admitted 
as  a simple  lay  brother.  “And  again,”  says  the  old  Bela- 
tion  of  1649,  “before  he  made  his  vows,  he  renewed  the 
request,  thinking  himself  unworthy  of  the  priesthood,  and 
fit  only  for  the  most  menial  offices.  . . . Yet  he  was  capable 
of  the  greatest  things.”  His  superiors,  at  a glance,  saw  the 
wealth  of  mental,  moral,  and  physicial  gifts  embodied  in 
John  de  Brebeuf,  and  full  of  submission  to  their  advice,  he 
pursued  with  marked  zeal  and  success  the  usual  courses  of 
study  and  teaching  in  the  colleges  of  the  Society,  and  was 
ordained  priest  on  the  25th  of  March,  1623,  that  being  his 
thirtieth  birth-day. 

One  of  the  pioneer  band  of  Jesuits'*  to  Canada,  Father 
de  Brebeuf  landed  beneath  the  bold  cliffs  of  Quebec  in  the 


* Sa  famille  etait  noble  et  ancienne.  Le  premier  ue  ses  ancStres  dont  le  nom  soil  connu. 
Nicolas  de  Brebeuf,  figure  aux  rfiles  de  1252,  parmi  les  nobles  de  la  vicomte  de  Bayeaux.  Son  nom 
lui  vient  du  fief  de  Brebeuf,  eitud  sur  la  paroisse  de  Cond^-sur-Vivue.  Election  de  Bayeaux,  au- 
trefois de  I’arrondissement  de  Salnt-L6.  . . Ses  armes  son  t d’argent  an  b®uf  effarouche  de  sable, 
accome  d'or  . . Le  poete  de  cc  nom,  Guillaume  de  Brebeuf,  petit  nevcu  du  missionnaire,  eortii 
de  ses  rangs  et  I’illustra. Martin,  S.  ./. 

’ It  consisted  of  six — three  Fathers  and  three  Coadjutor  Brothers.  The  Fathers  were  Charles 
Lalement,Eneinond  Masse,  and  John  de  Brebeuf. 


FATHEP  JOHN  DE  BR&BEUF,  S.  J. 


407 


summer  of  1625.  The  winter  of  that  and  the  following  year 
he  spent  as  a sort  of  apprenticeship,  wandering  in  he  neigh 
boring  woods  and  mountains  among  the  savages.  He  toiled 
hard  to  master  the  rude,  harsh,  unwritten  dialect,  and  to 
familiarize  himself  with  the  barbarous  life  and  customs  of 
the  red  man.  Truly  it  was  up-hill  work.  Fatigue,  insult, 
disgust,  hunger,  thirst,  and  intense  cold,  are  but  tame  ex- 
pressions when  applied  to  what  the  future  Apostle  of  the 
Hurons  endured. 

In  the  summer  of  1626  Father  de  Brebeuf,  accompanied 
by  Father  de  Noue,  S.  J.,  and  one  Franciscan  Father,  set 
out  for  the  country  of  the  Hurons.  At  first,  the  Indians 
refused  to  receive  Father  de  Brebeuf  into  their  canoes,  giv- 
ing as  a reason  that  his  tall  and  portly  frame  would  overset 
any  of  the  frail  vessels;  and  it  was  only  by  dint  of  many 
presents  that  their  pretended  fears  could  be  removed.  He 
embarked  with  his  companions,  and,  after  months  of  toil, 
reached  the  wild  scene  of  his  labors,  his  sufferings,  and  his 
death.  It  was  on  the  extreme  southern  shore  of  Georgian 
Bay.  Here  a mission  had  been  begun  about  ten  years  before 
by  the  apostolic  Father  Le  Caron,  a Franciscan. 

The  work  of  evangelizing  the  pagan  Hurons  progressed 
slowly.  The  first  difficulty— and  enormous  it  was,  certainly 
— was  to  master  the  barbarous  language.  For  this  labor, 
according  to  Champlain,  Father  de  Brebeuf  had  a wonder- 
ful aptitude^  In  a short  time  he  spoke  the  Huron  dialect 
with  fluency;  but  it  was  different  with  De  None,  who  found 
it  impossible,  on  account  of  his  advanced  age,  and  for  other 
reasons,  to  pick  up  the  savage  jargon  of  the  wilderness. 
Finding  that  his  presence  would  be  of  little  use.  Father  de 
Noue  soon  departed  for  Quebec.  The  Franciscans  also  re- 
tired, and  Father  de  Brebeuf  was  left  alone. 

He  was  now  nearly  a thousand  mOes  from  a fellow- Chris- 
tian, with  no  one  to  confide  his  thoughts  to,  no  one  to  wit- 
ness his  sacrifices,  but  God  and  His  Angels.  The  heroic 
priest,  however,  toiled  on  as  our  pen  cannot  picture.  It 
was  a stony  field.  His  hearers  for  a time  listened  with  su 
preme  indifference.  “Your  customs  arc  not  the  same  as 


408 


FATHER  JOHN  BE  BREBEUF,  S.  J. 


ours,”  they  replied  to  the  exhortations  of  the  black-gown. 
“ Our  country  is  so  different  from  yours  that  it  is  not  possi- 
ble the  same  God  created  both.’  ’ But  the  man  of  God  an- 
swered all  objections.  Living  amongst  the  Indians,  he  be- 
came, as  far  as  his  sacred  duties  and  character  would  per- 
mit, one  of  them.  They  gave  him  the  name  of  Echon. 
He  became  all  to  all,  that  he  might  gain  all  to  Christ.  The 
good  effect  of  his  untiring  labors  and  instructions  began  to 
tell  on  the  multitude  of  wild  men,  w’hen  the  miseries  that 
surrounded  the  unhappy  colony  of  Canada  led  to  his  recall 
to  Quebec. 

He  obeyed.  What  was  now  to  become  of  his  two  years’ 
toil  among  the  Hurons  ? When  the  Indians  heard  that  he 
was  about  to  depart,  they  crowded  around  their  friend  and 
father.  “ 0 Echon !”  they  exclaimed  in  passionate  accents, 
“is  it  thus  you  abandon  us?  During  two  years  you  have 
lived  with  us,  and  learned  our  language,  and  we  have  learned 
to  know  something  of  the  Great  Master  of  life.  Now  you 
know  how  to  speak  like  one  of  us,  but  as  yet  we  do  not 
know  how  to  pray  to  the  Great  Master  and  to  adore  Him  as 
you  do,  and  you  leave  us !”  At  this  touching  language  the 
lion-hearted  Jesuit  could  not  restrain  his  tears,  but  he 
waved  an  affectionate  adieu  to  his  dusky  flock,  and  prom- 
ised one  day  to  return. 

Misfortune  now  frowned  on  the  infant  colony.  Eng- 
land obtained  temporary  possession  of  Canada.  Made 
prisoners.  Father  de  Brebeuf  and  his  religious  colleagues 
who  were  stationed  at  Quebec,  were  sent  to  Great  Brit- 
ain, whence,  after  some  time,  they  were  allowed  to  pro- 
ceed to  France. 

Here,  w’e  are  told,  he  lived  among  his  brethren  with  the 
simplicity  of  a little  child.  The  thorny  way  of  the  Indian 
missions  had  but  advanced  him  on  the  royal  road  of  the 
Cross.  In  1631  he  wrote:  “I  feel  that  I have  no  talent  for 
anything,  recognizing  in  myself  only  an  inclination  to  obey 
others.  I believe  thar  I am  only  fit  to  be  a porter,  to  clean 
out  the  rooms  of  my'brethren,  and  to  serve  in  the  kitchen. 
I mean  to  conduct  myself  in  the  Society  as  if  I were  a beg- 


FATHER  JOHN  BE  BREBEUF.  S.  J. 


409 


gar.  admitted  into  it  by  sufferance,  and  I will  receive  every- 
thing that  is  granted  me  as  a particular  favor.”  The  person 
who  wrote  this  was,  without  any  doubt,  one  of  the  most 
gifted  men  of  his  age  1 


i 


CHAPTER  II. 

AMONG  THE  HURONS. 

A glimpse— A council  anC  what  came  of  it — The  enentful 
journey  to  the  Huron  country — Indian  geography-^ 
The  house  for  the  Jesuits^  and  its  wondrous  furniture 
— Anecdotes  — Labors  of  the  missionaries — The  good 
seed  falling  on  rocks — The  thousand-and-one  obsta- 
cles— Heroism — He  Brebeuf's  visit  to  the  savages  of  the 
Neutral  Nation. 

In  a few  years  France  regained  possession  of  Canada,  and 
the  cassock  of  the  Jesnit  might  once  more  be  seen  on  the 
rude  streets  of  Quebec.  Let  us  take  a glimpse  at  one  of  the 
six  fearless  sons  of  Ignatius,  as  they  sit  in  their  humble  resi- 
dence of  Notre  Dame  des  Anges,  at  Quebec,  in  1633,  at  the 
evening  meal.  One  was  conspicuous  among  the  rest — a tall, 
powerful  man,  with  features  that  seemed  carved  by  nature 
for  a soldier,  but  which  the  piety  and  mental  habit  of  years 
had  stamped  with  the  visible  impress  of  the  priesthood.  It 
was  John  de  Brebeuf.  The  Apostle  of  the  Hurons  had  again 
blessed  the  soil  of  Canada  Avith  his  presence. 

In  July,  1633,  one  hundred  and  forty  canoes  were  pulled 
ashore  at  the  warehouses  of  Quebec.  Over  six  hundred 
Iluron  warriors  and  chiefs  had  come  on  their  annual  trading 
expedition.  Preliminary  arrangements  past,  a council  was 
held  in  the  fort.  Jesuit  Fathers,  French  officers,  and  dusky 
chiefs  and  warriors  formed  this  singular  assembly.  Its  ob- 
ject was  to  come  to  an  understanding  with  the  savages  in 
relation  to  sending  three  missionaries  among  them.  To 
Fathers  de  Brebeuf,  Daniel,  and  Davost  had  fallen  the 
honors,  dangers,  and  woes  of  the  Huron  mission. 

Governor  Champlain  introduced  the  three  priests  to  the 
410 


FATHER  JOHN  BE  BREBEUF,  8.  J. 


411 


Indians.  “These  are  our  Fathers,”  said  the  noble  and  ven- 
erable Founder  of  Canada.  “We  love  them  more  than  we 
lo^  e ourselves.  The  whole  French  nation  honors  them.  They 
do  not  go  among  you  for  your  furs.  They  have  left  their 
friends  and  their  country  to  show  you  the  way  to  heaven. 
If  you  love  the  French,  as  you  say  you  love  them,  then  love 
and  honor  these  our  Fathers.” 

On  the  eve  of  departure,  however,  a misunderstanding 
among  the  Indians  prevented  the  missionaries  from  proceed- 
ing on  their  journey,  and  another  year  passed  away  before 
the  fleet  of  canoes  came  down  the  lordly  St.  Lawrence. 

In  the  summer  of  1634,  the  dusky  traders  landed  their 
light  crafts,  this  time  at  Three  Rivers,  and  Father  de 
Brebeuf  and  his  two  companions  set  out  with  them  on  theii 
return  trip. 

They  reckoned  the  distance  at  nine  hundred  miles ; but 
distance  was  the  least  repellent  feature  of  this  most  arduous 
journey.  Barefooted,  lest  their  shoes  should  injure  the 
frail  vessel,  each  priest  crouched  in  his  canoe,  and  toiled 
with  unpractised  hand  to  propel  it.  Before  him,  week  after 
week,  he  saw  the  same  lank,  unkempt  hair,  the  same  tawny 
shoulders,  and  long,  naked  arms,  ceaselessly  plying  the 
paddle.  The  canoes  were  soon  separated,  and  for  more 
than  a month  the  priests  rarely  or  never  met.  De  Brebeuf 
spoke  a little  Huron,  and  could  converse  with  his  escort, 
but  Daniel  and  Davost  were  doomed  to  a silence  unbroken 
save  by  the  occasional  unintelligible  complaints  and  men- 
aces of  the  Indians,  of  whom  many  were  sick  with  the  epi- 
demic, and  all  were  terrified,  desponding,  and  sullen. 

Their  only  food  was  a pittance  of  Indian  corn  crushed  be- 
tween two  stones  and  mixed  with  water.  The  toil  was  ex- 
treme. De  Brebeuf  counted  thirty-five  portages  where 
their  canoes  were  lifted  from  the  water,  and  carried  on  the 
shoulders  of  the  voyagers  around  the  rapids  or  cataracts. 
More  than  fifty  times  besides  they  were  forced  to  wade  in 
the  raging  current,  pushing  up  their  empty  barks  or  drag- 
ging them  with  ropes.  The  Apostle  of  the  Hurons  tried  to 
do  his  part,  but  the  boulders  and  sharp  rocks  wounded  his 


412 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BBEBEUF,  8.  J. 


naked  feet  and  compelled  him  to  desist.  He  and  his  com. 
panions  bore  their  share  of  the  baggage  across  the  portages, 
sometimes  a distance  of  several  miles.  Four  trips  at  least 
were  required  to  convey  the  whole.  The  way  was  through 
the  dense  forest,  encumbered  with  rocks  and  logs,  tangled 
with  roots  and  underbrush,  damp  with  perpetual  shade, 
and  redolent  of  decayed  leaves  and  mouldering  wood.  The 
Indians  themselves  were  often  spent  with  fatigue.  Father 
de  Brebeuf,  with  his  iron  frame  and  unconquerable  reso- 
lution, doubted  if  his  strength  would  sustain  him  to  his 
journey’s  end. 

He  complains  that  he  had  no  moment  to  read  his  brevi- 
ary, except  by  the  moonlight  or  the  fire,  when  stretched 
out  to  sleep  on  a bare  rock  by  some  savage  cataract  of 
the  Ottawa,  or  in  a damp  nook  of  the  adjacent  forest. 
Descending  French  river,  and  following  the  lonely  shore 
of  the  great  Georgian  Bay,  the  canoe  which  carried  De 
Brebeuf  at  length  neared  its  destination,  thirty  days  after 
leaving  Three  Rivers.  Before  him,  stretched  in  wild 
slumber,  lay  the  forest  shore  of  the  Huron  Nation.  Did 
his  spirit  sink  as  he  approached  his  dreary  home,  op- 
pressed with  a dark  foreboding  of  what  the  future  should 
bring  forth? 

De  Brebeuf  and  his  Huron  companions  having  landed,  the 
Indians,  throwing  the  missionary’s  baggage  on  the  ground, 
left  him  to  his  own  resources,  and,  without  heeding  his  re- 
monstrances, set  forth  for  their  respective  villages,  some 
twenty  miles  distant.  Thus  abandoned,  the  priest  knelt, 
not  to  implore  succor  in  his  perplexity,  but  to  offer  thanks 
to  the  Providence  which  had  shielded  him  thus  far.  Then 
rising,  he  pondered  as  to  what  course  he  should  take.  He 
knew  the  spot  well.  It  was  on  the  borders  of  the  small 
inlet  called  Thunder  Bay.  In  the  neighboring  Huron  town 
of  Toanche  he  had  lived  three  years,  preaching  and  bap- 
tizing. He  hid  his  baggage  in  the  woods,  including  the 
vessels  for  the  Holy  Mass,  more  precious  than  all  the  rest, 
and  began  to  search  for  his  new  abode.  Evening  was  near, 
Srhen,  after  following,  bewildered  and  anxious,  a gloomy 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BREBEUF,  S.  J. 


413 


forest  path,  he  issued  upon  a wild  clearing,  and  saw  before 
him  the  bark  roofs  of  Ihonatiria. 

A crowd  ran  out  to  meet  him.  “Echon  has  come  again  I 
Echon  has  come  again  !”  they  cried,  recognizing  in  the  dis- 
tance the  stately  figure  robed  in  black  that  advanced 
from  the  border  of  the  forest.  They  led  him  to  the  town, 
and  the  whole  population  swarmed  about  him.  After  a 
short  rest,  he  set  out  with  a number  of  young  Indians  in 
o’lest  of  his  baggage,  returning  with  it  at  one  o’clock  in  the 
morning.  Such  is  a vivid  and  faithful  picture  of  the  illus- 
trious Jesuit’s  journey  to  the  Huron  Nation  from  the  graphic 
pen  of  Parkman. 

Before  proceeding  further,  let  us  study  a little  Indian 
geography.  The  ancient  country  of  the  Hurons  is  now  com- 
prised in  the  northeastern  and  eastern  portion  of  Simcoe 
County,  Canada  West',  and  is  embraced  within  the  peninsula 
formed  by  the  Nottawassaga  and  Matchedash  Bays  of  Lake 
Huron,  the  River  Severn,  and  Lake  Simcoe.  This  small 
area  was  quite  thickly  inhabited  by  a race  of  traders,  who 
had  many  fortified  towns.  The  Jesuits  estimated  the  num- 
ber of  towns  or  villages  at  thirty-two,  and  the  entire  popu- 
lation at  about  20,000. 

On  the  west  and  southwest  of  the  Hurons  proper  lay  the 
kindred  tribe  of  the  Tobacco  Nation,  so  called  from  their 
luxuriant  fields  of  tobacco.  And  south  of  both  of  these, 
from  Lake  St.  Clair  to  Niagara,  was  the  Neutral  Nation, 
which  obtained  its  name  from  the  neutrality  observed  by  its 
people  in  the  long  and  deadly  struggle  between  the  Hurons 
and  Iroquois." 

Welcomed  by  one  of  the  richest  and  most  hospitable 
Hurons  of  Ihonatiria,  Father  de  Brebeuf  made  his  abode 
with  him.  As  days  passed,  he  anxiously  awaited  the  arrival 
of  liis  two  fellow-priests  and  their  French  companions.  One 
by  one  they  made  their  appearance.  But  tliey  could 


> Now  the  Province  of  Ontario. 

• It  is  not  very  well  known  how  this  fierce  fend  first  originated  between  these  kindred  nations.  It 
was  going  on  when  the  French  arrived  in  Canada,  and  naturally  they  took  the  side  of  their  neigh- 
bors, the  Hurons.  Hence  the  hostility  of  the  Iroquois  to  the  French. 


414 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BREBEUF,  S.  J. 


scarcely  be  recognized.  Half-dead  with  hunger  and  fatigue, 
they  resembled  living  skeletons  more  than  men. 

A house  for  the  black-robes  after  the  Huron  model  was 
soon  erected.  As  hundreds  of  Indians  joined  in  the  work, 
the  bark  mansion  rose  in  a few  days — a complete  edifice.  It 
was  divided  into  three  parts — store-house,  dwelling-house 
and  chapel.  This  house  and  its  furniture  soon  became  the 
wonder  of  the  whole  Huron  country.  Visitors  were  in 
abundance.  It  was  the  clock,  above  all,  that  puzzled  and 
pleased  them. 

The  guests  would  sit  in  expectant  silence  by  the  hour, 
squatted  on  the  ground,  waiting  to  hear  it  strike.  They 
thought  it  was  alive,  and  asked  what  it  ate.  As  the  last 
stroke  sounded  one  of  the  Frenchmen  would  cry  “Stop!” 
and  to  the  admiration  of  the  company  the  obedient  clock 
was  silent. 

The  miU  was  another  wonder,  and  they  were  never  tired 
of  turning  it.  Besides  these,  there  was  a prism  and  a mag- 
net ; also  a magnifying  glass,  wherein  a flea  was  trans- 
formed into  a frightful  monster,  and  a multiplying  lens, 
which  showed  them  the  same  object  eleven  times  repeated. 

“ All  this,”  writes  Father  De  Brebeuf,  “serves  to  gain 
their  affection,  and  make  them  more  docile  in  respect  to  the 
admirable  and  incomprehensible  mysteries  of  our  Faith ; 
for  the  opinion  they  have  of  our  genius  and  capacity  makes 
them  believe  whatever  we  tell  them.” 

“What  does  the  Captain  say?”  was  the  frequent  ques- 
tion, for  by  this  title  of  honor  they  designated  the  clock. 
“ When  he  strikes  twelve  times,  he  says,  ‘ Hang  on  the  ket- 
tle,’ and  when  he  strikes  four  times,  he  says,  ‘Get  up  and 
go  home.’  ” Both  interpretations  were  well  remembered. 
At  noon  visitors  were  never  wanting  to  share  the  Fathers’ 
sagamite,  but  at  the  stroke  of  four  all  rose  and  departed, 
leaving  the  missionaries  for  a time  in  peace. 

Father  de  Brebeuf,  as  Superior  of  the  mission,  and  his 
two  colleagues  now  began  their  labors.  To  warriors  and 
women,  children  and  chiefs,  the  Gospel  was  now  announced. 
The  work  of  conversion  was  long  and  most  diflBcult.  In 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BREBEUF,  S.  J 


415 


fact,  during  the  first  few  years  no  adults  were  baptized  save 
those  at  the  point  of  death.  The  experienced  De  Brebeuf, 
knew  Indian  nature  well,  and  he  greatly  feared  backsliding. 
Hence  his  caution.  In  his  eyes  one  good  Christian  was  bet- 
ter than  a multitude  of  bad  ones.  Besides,  all  the  Indian 
vices — and  the  Huron  nation  was  corrupt  to  the  core — had 
to  be  eradicated  before  Catholicity  could  be  planted.  The 
herculean  toil  of  battling  against  depravity,  and  of  seeing 
that  neither  young  nor  old  died  without  aid,  such  was  the 
unceasing  task  of  the  Jesuits. 

In  the  summer  of  1635  there  was  a severe  drought,  which 
defied  Indian  magic,  and  ruined  the  reputation  of  many  a 
medicine  man.  One  of  the  most  renowned  of  these  jugglers, 
seeing  his  reputation  tottering  under  his  repeated  failures, 
bethought  himself  of  accusing  the  Jesuits,  and  gave  out 
that  the  red  color  of  the  cross  which  stood  before  their 
house  scared  the  bird  of  thunder,  and  caused  him  to  fly  an- 
other way.'  On  this  a clamor  arose.  The  popular  ire 
turned  against  the  priests,  and  the  obnoxious  cross  was  con- 
demned to  be  hewn  down.  Aghast  at  the  threatened  sac- 
rilege, they  attempted  to  reason  away  the  storm,  assuring 
the  crowd  that  the  lightning  was  not  a bird,  but  certain  hot 
and  fiery  exhalations,  which  being  imprisoned,  darted 
this  way  and  that,  trying  to  escape.  As  this  philosophy 
failed  to  convince  their  hearers,  the  missionaries  changed 
their  line  of  defence. 

“Yousay,”  observed  the  Fathers,  “ that  the  red  color  of  the 
cross  frightens  the  bird  of  thunder.  Then  paint  the  cross 
white,  and  see  if  the  thunder  will  come.”  This  was  done, 
but  the  clouds  still  kept  aloof. 

“ Your  spirits  cannot  help  you,”  said  Father  de  Brebeuf, 
“and  your  sorcerers  have  deceived  you  with  lies.  Now  ask 
the  aid  of  Him  who  made  the  world,  and  perhaps  He  will 

• The  following  is  the  erplanation  an  Indian  gave  Father  De  Brebeuf  of  what  thunder  was  ; “It 
is  a man  in  the  form  of  a turkey-cock.  The  sky  is  hjs  palace,  and  he  remains  in  it  when  the  a» 
is  clear.  When  the  clouds  begin  to  gnimble  he  descends  to  the  earth  to  gather  up  snakes  and 
other  objects,  which  the  Indians  call  manitous.  Tne  lightning  flashes  whenever  he  opens  or  close* 
his  wings.  If  the  storm  is  more  violent  than  usual,  it  is  because  his  young  are  with  him,  and 
aiding  in  the  noise  as  well  as  they  can.” 


4L6 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BEEBEUF,  8.  J. 


listen  to  your  prayer"  And  he  added  that  if  the  Indians 
would  renounce  their  sins,  and  obey  the  true  God,  they 
would  make  a procession  daily  to  implore  His  favor  towards 
them.  Tliere  was  no  want  of  promises.  The  processions 
were  begun,  as  were  also  nine  Masses  to  St.  Joseph,  and  as 
heavy  rains  occurred  soon  after,  the  Indians  conceived  a high 
idea  of  the  efficacy  of  the  French  “ medicine.’” 

If  in  1636  more  Jesuits  came  to  the  assistance  of  the 
dauntless  De  Brebeuf,  his  difficulties  on  that  account  did 
not  dimmish.  For  several  years  the  pestilence  had  scourged 
the  Hurons,  but  now  it  arrived  in  its  most  terrible  form — 
the  small-pox.  Mourning  overshadowed  the  land.  De 
Brebeuf  and  his  brave  band  became,  if  possible,  more  than 
heroes.  Amid  the  wails  of  the  living  and  the  groans  of  the 
dying,  they  passed  around,  like  good  angels,  from  cabin  tp 
cabin,  aiding  and  comforting  as  they  w^nt  along.  Often 
the  only  return  for  their  charity  were  jeers  and  curses. 

“When  we  see  them,”  writes  Parkman,  “in  the  gloomy 
February  of  1637,  and  the  gloomier  months  that  followed, 
toiling  on  foot  from  one  infected  town  to  another,  wading 
through  the  sodden  snow,  under  the  bare  and  dripping  for- 
est, drenched  with  incessant  rains,  till  they  descried  at 
length  through  the  storm  the  clustering  dwellings  of  some 
barbarous  hamlet,  when  we  see  them  entering  one  after  an- 
other these  wretched  abodes  of  misery  and  darkness,  and 
all  for  one  sole  end,  the  baptism  of  the  sick  and  dying,  . . . 
we  must  needs  admire  the  self-sacrificing  zeal  with  which  it 
was  pursued.” 

In  those  wild  scenes  of  misery,  no  pen  can  picture  the 
heroic  toils,  the  calmness,  the  grandeur  of  soul  exhibited  by 
Father  de  Brebeuf.  How  the  human  frame  could  endure  it 
is  something  which  fills  the  mind  with  astonishment.  Nor 
had  he  to  battle  against  disease  and  Indian  wickedness 
only.  The  powers  of  darkness  assailed  the  great  priest  in 
every  way  possible.  Demons  in  troops  appeared  befora 
him,  sometimes  in  the  guise  of  men,  sometimes  as  bears. 


• Paikraan. 


FATHER  DE  BREBEUF  CONFRONTING  THE  INDIAN  COUNCIL. 


FATUER  JOHN  DE  BREBEUF,  S.  j. 


411 


Tv^olves,  or  wild- cats.  He  called  on  God,  and  the  appari- 
tions vanished.  Death,  like  a skeleton,  sometimes  menaced 
him,  and  once,  as  he  faced  it  with  an  unqailing  eye,  it  fell 
powerless  at  his  feet.  He  saw  the  vision  of  a vast  and  gor- 
geous palace,  and  a miraculous  voice  assured  him  that  such 
was  to  be  the  reward  of  those  who  dwelt  in  savage  hovels 
for  the  cause  of  God.  Angels  appeared  to  him,  and  more 
than  once  St.  Joseph  and  the  Most  Blessed  Virgin  were  vis- 
ibly present  before  his  sight. 

In  1637  Father  de  Brebeuf  had  the  extreme  consolation  of 
solemnly  baptizing  a Huron  chief,  the  first  adult  in  health 
yet  admitted  to  the  Christian  fold.  It  was  done  with  great 
ceremony,  and  in  the  presence  of  hundi’eds  of  wondering 
Indians.  But  the  devil  became  alarmed  at  this  triumph  of 
the  Faith,  More  than  ever  the  savages  began  to  suspect  the 
Jesuits.  Ir.  was  secretly  whispered  abroad  that  they  had 
bewitched  the  nation,  in  short  were  the  chief  cause  of  the 
pest  w’hich  threatened  to  destroy  it. 

A dwarfish  medicine-man,  who  boasted  that  he  was  a ver- 
itable fiend  incarnate,  originated  this  rumor.  The  slander, 
says  Parkman,  spread  fast  and  far.  Their  friends  looked  at 
them  askance,  their  enemies  clamored  for  their  lives.  Some 
said  that  the  priests  concealed  in  their  houses  a corpse 
which  infected  the  country — a prevalent  notion,  derived 
from  some  half-instructed  neophyte,  concerning  the  body  o. 
Christ  in  the  Eucharist.  Others  ascribed  the  evils  to  a ser- 
pent, others  to  a spotted  frog,  others  to  a demon  which  the 
priests  were  supposed  to  carry  in  the  barrel  Of  a gun.  Others 
again  gave  out  that  they  had  pricked  an  infant  to  death 
with  awls  in  the  forest, in  order  to  kill  the  Huron  children 
by  magic  Perhaps,''  observes  Father  Le  Mercier  “the 
devil  was  enraged  because  we  had  placed  a great  many  ot 
these  little  innocents  in  Heaven.'’ 

The  picture  ol  the  Last  Judgment'  became  an  objecj  of 
terror.  It  was  regarded  as  a charm.  The  dragons  and  ser- 
pents were  supposed  to  be  the  demons  oi  the  pest,  and  the 


’ ' was  the  few  pictures  that  adorned  the  rude  forest  chapel. 


418  FATHER  JOUN  BE  BREBEUF,  S.  J. 

sinners  whom  they  were  so  busily  devouring  to  repr^^ent  its 
victims.  On  the  top  of  a spruce  tree  near  their  house  at 
Ihonatiria,  the  priests  had  fastened  a small  streamer  to  show 
the  direction  of  the  wind.  This  too  was  taken  for  a charm, 
throwing  off  disease  and  death  to  all  quarters.  The  clock, 
once  an  object  of  harmless  wonder,  now  excited  the  wildest 
alarm,  and  the  Jesuits  were  forced  to  stop  it,  as  it  was 
supposed  to  sound  the  signal  of  death.  At  sunset,  one 
would  have  seen  knots  of  Indians,  their  faces  dark  with 
dejection  and  terror,  listening  to  the  measured  sounds 
which  issued  from  within  the  neighboring  house  of  the 
mission,  where,  with  bolted  doors,  the  priests  were  sing- 
ing Litanies,  mistaken  for  incantations  by  the  awe-struck 
savages. ' 

On  the  evening  of  the  4th  of  August,  1637,  the  chiefs  held 
a solemn  council  to  discuss  the  whole  question  of  the  pest 
and  the  Jesuits.  Father  de  Brebeuf  and  his  associates  were 
requested  to  be  present,  and  gladly  they  accepted  the  invi- 
tation. A stranger  scene  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine. 
Chiefs  grizzly  with  age,  and  bearing  the  scars  of  many  a 
fierce  contest,  spent  their  eloquence,  the  whole  gist  of  which 
was — the  Huron  nation  was  dying  away,  and  the  priests 
were  the  cause.  When  the  last  of  the  dusky  orators  sat 
down,  the  noble  De  Brebeuf  arose  and  thoroughly  exposed 
the  utter  absurdity  of  the  charges  against  himself  and  his 
fellow-priests.  But  it  was  all  to  no  purpose,  There  was  a 
clamor  for  the  ^'‘charmed  cloth!  In  vain  did  the  Jesuit 
protest  that  they  had  nothing  of  the  kind.  The  loud  and 
savage  demands  but  increased. 

“If  you  will  not  believe  me,”  said  De  Brebeuf,  “go  to 
our  house;  search  everywhere;  and  if  you  are  not  sure 
which  is  the  charm,  take  all  our  clothing  and  all  our  cloth, 
and  throw  them  into  the  lake.” 

“Sorcerers  always  talk  in  that  way,”  was  the  reply. 

“Then  what  will  you  have  me  say?”  demanded  De 
Brebeuf. 

“Tell  us  the  cause  of  the  pest,”  was  still  asked. 


■ in  North  America.” 


FATHER  JOHN  BE  BREBEUF,  S.  J. 


419 


The  good  Father’s  explanations  and  the  loud  interruptions 
of  the  Indians  delayed  the  debate  until  long  after  mid- 
night. As  one  of  the  old  chiefs  passed  out,  he  said  to  the 
“ Xavier  of  North  America”:  “ If  some  young  brave  should 
split  your  head,  we  should  have  nothing  to  say.” 

The  Fathers  were  now  in  peril  of  their  lives.  The  lew 
converts  they  had  lately  made  came  to  them  in  secret,  and 
warned  them  that  their  death  was  determined  upon.  The 
house  was  set  on  fire,  in  public  every  face  was  averted  from 
them,  and  a new  council  was  called  to  pronounce  the  decree 
of  death.  They  appeared  before  it,  we  are  told,  with  a 
front  of  such  unflinching  assurance,  that  their  judges,  In- 
dian-like, postponed  the  sentence.  Yet  it  seemed  impossi- 
ble that  they  should  much  longer  escape.  De  Brebeuf, 
therefore,  wrote  a letter  of  farewell  to  his  superior.  Father 
Le  Jeune,  at  Quebec,  and  confided  it  to  some  converts  whom 
he  could  trust,  to  be  carried  by  them  to  its  destination. 

“We  are,  perhaps,”  he  writes,  “about  to  give  our  blood 
and  our  lives  in  the  cause  of  our  Master,  Jesus  Christ.  Ic 
seems  that  His  goodness  will  accept  the  sacrifice,  as  regards 
me,  in  expiation  of  my  great  and  numberless  sins,  and  that 
He  will  thus  crown  the  past  services  and  ardent  desires  of 
all  our  Fathers  here.  . . . Blessed  be  His  name  forever, 
that  He  has  chosen  us  among  so  many  better  than  we  to  aid 
Him  to  bear  His  cross  in  this  land!  In  all  things  His  holy 
will  be  done.”  The  spirit  of  the  fearless  Christian  hero 
shines  out  in  these  admirable  sentences. 

After  a fervent  novena  to  St.  Joseph,  the  clouds  of  death 
that  hung  over  their  devoted  heads  began  slowly  to  move 
away.  “Truly,”  wrote  Father  Le  Mercier,  “it  is  an  un- 
speakable happiness  for  us  in  the  midst  of  this  barbarism 
to  hear  the  roaring  of  the  demons,  and  to  see  earth  and 
hell  raging  against  a handful  of  men  who  will  not  even  de- 
fend themselves.” 

Hlustrious  band  of  incomparable  men!  Let  us  call  the 
immortal  roll:  “The  iron  De  Brebeuf,  the  gentle  Carnier 
the  all-enduring  Jaques,  the  enthusiastic  Chaumonot,  Lalle- 
mant,  Le  Mercier,  Charletain,  Daniel,  Pijart,  Ragueneau, 


\ 


420  FATHER  JOHN  HE  BBBBEUF,  S.  J. 

Du  Perron,  Poncet,  Le  Moyne,”  one  and  all  bore  them- 
selves with  a bold  tranquillity  even  when  their  very  scalps 
hung  by  a hair. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  narrative  we  must  confine 
ourselves  to  the  personal  history  of  De  Brebeuf  himself. 
Gladly  would  we  follow  all  in  their  labors,  but  space  ’will 
not  permit.  “ Pain  would  we  pause  to  gaze  at  each  in  his  trials 
and  his  toils;  recount  the  dangers  from  the  heathen  Huron, 
the  skulking  Iroquois,  the  frozen  river,  hunger,  cold,  and 
accident;  to  show  Gamier  wrestling  with  the  floating  ice 
through  which  he  sunk  on  an  errand  of  mercy;  Chabanel 
struggling  on  for  many  years  on  a mission  from  which  every 
fiber  of  his  nature  shrunk  with  loathing;  Chaumonot  com- 
piling his  grammar  on  the  frozen  earth;  or  the  heroic  De 
Brebeuf,  paralyzed  by  a fall,  ■with  his  collar-bone  broken, 
creeping  on  his  hands  and  feet  along  the  frozen  road,  and 
sleeping  unsheltered  in  the  snow,  when  the  very  trees  were 
splitting  with  cold.”‘ 

In  November,  1640,  Father  de  Brebeuf,  accompanied  by 
Father  Chaumonot,  set  out  to  establish  a mission  among 
the  ferocious  savages  of  the  Neutral  Nation.  A more  per- 
ilous journey  they  could  not  have  undertaken.  Five  days 
of  toilsome  marching  brought  them  to  the  first  Neutral 
town. 

Their  progress  was  a storm  of  maledictions.  The  cry  of 
“sorcerers”  was  immediately  raised,  and  in  every  quarter 
the  priests  were  denounced  as  the  destroyers  of  the  human 
race.  They  were  driven  from  door  to  door,  yelled  at,  spat 
on,  jeered,  and  cursed. 

One  day,  as  Father  de  Brebeuf  s eyes  were  turned  in  the 
direction  of  the  land  of  the  Iroquois,  he  beheld  the  ominous 
apparition  of  a great  cross  in  the  air  approaching  from  that 
quarter.  Afterwards  he  told  the  vision  to  his  comrades. 
“What  was  it  like?”  “How  large  was  it?”  they  eagerly 
demanded.  “Large  enough,”  replied  De  Brebeuf,  “to  cru- 
cify us  all.” 

But  God  did  not  abandon  his  faithful  servant  in  adver- 


» Shea. 


FATHER  JOHN  HE  BREBEJJF,  S.  J. 


421 


sity.  “One  evening,”  writes  Father  Chaumonot,  “when 
all  the  chief  men  of  the  town  were  deliberating  in  council 
whether  they  would  put  us  to  death,  Father  de  Brebeuf, 
while  making  his  examination  of  conscience,  as  we  were  to- 
gether at  prayers,  saw  the  vision  of  a specter,  full  of  fury, 
menacing  us  both  with  three  javelins  which  he  held  in  his 
hand.  Then  he  hurled  one  of  them  at  us;  but  a more  pow- 
erful hand  caught  it  as  it  flew,  and  this  took  place  a second 
or  a third  time,  as  he  hurled  his  two  remaining  javelins. 

“ Late  at  night  our  host  came  back  from  the  council,  where 
the  two  Huron  emissaries  had  made  their  gift  of  hatchets  to 
have  us  killed.  He  wakened  us  to  say  that  three  times  we 
had  been  at  the  point  of  death;  for  the  young  men  had 
offered  three  times  to  strike  the  blow,  and  three  times  the 
old  men  had  dissuaded  them.  This  explained  the  meaning 
of  Father  de  Brebeuf  s vision.”  Still  their  danger  was  not 
past.  It  was  secretly  agreed  that  no  one  should  shelter 
them. 

“Go  and  leave  our  country,”  exclaimed  an  old  chief,  “or 
we  will  put  you  into  the  kettle,  and  make  a feast  of  you.” 

Father  de  Brebeuf  and  his  companion,  notwithstanding 
their  dangers,  spent  a few  weeks  more  in  the  territory  of  the 
ferocious  and  inhospitable  Neutrals,  and  then,  shaking  the 
dust  off  their  feet,  they  proceeded  north  to  St.  Marie,  the 
headquarters  of  the  whole  Huron  mission. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  BLESSING  OF  SUCCESS  AND  THE  HEROIC  END. 

The  great  harvest  of  souls — Piety  of  the  Indians — Father 
de  Brebeufs  appearance  some  time  before  his  death — 
His  virtues — The  Iroquois  invasion — Assault  on  the 
village  of  St.  Louis — A noble  Indian  chief — De  Brebeuf 
taken  prisoner — Appalling  tortures — The  sublime  end 
— His  greatness. 

Six  years  of  almost  incredible  toil  and  sufferings  had  now 
been  spent  in  the  stony  field  of  the  Huron  mission.  To  the 
mere  human  eye  it  was  labor  thrown  away.  But  nothing  Is 
lost  that  is  done  for  God.  Others  may  sow  and  water;  He 
alone  can  give  the  increase,  which  He  always  does  in  His 
own  good  time.  After  all,  motives,  not  success,  are  the  test 
of  real  merit.  But  if  the  sublimest  motives  and  the  noblest 
merit  can  command  success,  did  not  Father  de  Brebeuf  and 
his  apostolic  companions  deserve  it  ? 

The  venerable  Apostle  of  the  Hurons  had  the  happiness 
to  live  to  behold  his  labors  blessed  by  Heaven.  During  the 
remaining  nine  years  of  his  glorious  career  thousands  came 
into  the  Church.  Marvelous  sight ! Obstinate  and  fierce 
barbarians  were  transformed  into  model  Christians.  The 
wolf  became  a lamb.  Speaking  of  the  state  of  the  missions 
in  1648,  Father  Ragueneau  wrote:  “Everywhere  the  prog- 
ress of  the  Faith  has  far  surpassed  our  hopes;  the  greater 
portion  of  the  savages,  even  those  who  had  been  before  the 
most  ferocious,  having  become  so  docile  and  so  pliable  to 
the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  as  to  make  it  manifest  that  the 
angels  labored  more  among  them  than  ourselves.  The  num^ 
ber  of  those  who  received  baptism  this  year  is  about  eigh- 
teen hundred.” 


422 


FATHER  JOHN  BE  BREBEUF,  8.  J. 


423 


Four  new  missionaries  having  arrived  in  September, 
1648,  the  total  number  laboring  in  the  Huron  mission 
then  amounted  to  eighteen.  All  the  chief  villages  had 
their  flourishing  missions.  In  the  conversion  of  these 
dusky  sons  of  the  forest  we  see  the  truth  of  the  lines — 

"Nothing  great  is  lightly  won, 

And  nothing  won  is  lost.” 

How  delighted  must  have  been  Father  de  Brebeuf  in  wit- 
nessing' the  marvelous  progress  of  the  Faith  described  in 
the  Huron  Relations  of  that  time.  “Without  doubt,” 
writes  the  Superior,  “the  angels  of  Heaven  have  been  re- 
joiced at  seeing  that  in  all  the  villages  of  this  country  the 
Faith  is  respected,  and  that  Christians  now  glory  in  that 
name  which  was  in  reproach  but  a few  years  ago.  For  my 
part,  I could  never  have  hoped  to  see,  even  after  fifty 
years  of  labor.,  one-tenth  part  of  the  piety,  of  the  virtue 
and  sanctity,  of  which  I have  been  an  eye-witness  in  the  visits 
made  to  those  churches  which  have  but  lately  grown  up  in 
the  bosom  of  infidelity.  It  has  given  me  a sensible  delight 
to  witness  the  diligence  of  the  Christians,  who  anticipated 
the  light  of  the  sun  to  come  to  the  public  prayers,  and  who, 
though  harassed  with  toil,  came  again  in  immense  throngs 
before  night  to  render  anew  their  homages  to  God;  to  see 
the  little  children  emulating  the  piety  of  their  parents,  and 
accustoming  themselves,  from  the  most  tender  age,  to  offer 
up  to  God  their  little  sufferings,  griefs,  and  labors.  Often 
little  girls,  while  engaged  in  gathering  wood  for  the  fire  in 
the  adjoining  forests,  can  find  no  employment  more  agree- 
able than  to  recite  the  rosary,  seeking  to  outstrip  each  other 
in  this  exercise  of  piety.  But  what  has  charmed  me  most  is 
to  see  that  the  sentiments  of  faith  have  penetrated  so  deeply 
into  the  hearts  of  those  whom  we  have  but  lately  called  bar- 
barians, and  I can  say  with  entire  truth  that  Divine  grace 
has  destroyed  in  most  of  them  the  fears,  the  desires,  and  the 
joys  inspired  heretofore  by  the  feelings  of  nature.”  ' 


* Father  Ragnenean,  S.  J. 

The  following  la  from  the  same  venerable  pen:  “A  little  child  six  years  old  fell  dangerously 


424 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BREBEVF,  S J. 


Such  was  the  happy  condition  of  the  Huron  mission.  The 
labors  of  the  illustrious  Be  Brebeuf  and  his  fellow-Jesuit? 
were  crowned  with  more  than  success.  Catholicity  flour- 
ished in  the  snow-clad  wilderness  of  the  North. 

There  were  in  the  Huron  country  in  March,  1649,  eigh- 
teen Jesuits  and  four  lay  brothers.  The  headquarters  of 
the  mission,  where  the  Father  Superior  resided,  was,  as  we 
have  said,  Sainte  Marie,  on  the  little  river  Wye,  just  south 
of  Matchedas  Bay.  Other  mission  villages  had  likewise  the 
names  of  saints,  St.  Ignatius,  St.  Joseph,*  St.  Louis,  and 
many  more. 

Let  us  imagine  all  the  Fathers  gathered  togethoL’  in  the 
largest  apartment  of  the  house  at  Sainte  Mavie  Among 
them  we  can  at  once  single  out  the  tall,  imposing  figure  of 
the  apostle  and  founder  of  the  Huron  mission.  Father  John 
de  Brebeuf.  His  hair  was  nr  w somewhat  tinged  with  gray, 
for  he  was  fifty-six  years  oi  age.  “If  he  seemed  impas- 
sive,” writes  the  Protestant  Parkman,  “it  was  because  one 
overmastering  principle  had  merged  and  absorbed  all  the 
impulses  of  his  nature,  and  all  the  faculties  of  his  mind. 


lick  in  the  mission  of  St.  Michael.  His  mother,  seeing  the  excess  of  his  sufferings,  and  the  ap- 
proaches o'  death  to  her  dearly  beloved  and  only  child,  could  not  restrain  her  tears.  ‘ Mother,’  ex- 
claims the  little  one,  ‘ why  do  you  weep?  your  tears  cannot  make  me  well  again.  Let  us  pray  to 
God  together  that  He  will  make  me  happy  in  Heaven.’  After  some  prayers  the  mother  said; 
‘ My  son,  I must  carry  you  to  Sainte  Marie,  that  the  French  i, athers  may  restore  yon  to  health.’ 
‘O  mother! ' repliea  the  little  innocent,  ‘ I have  a fire  which  bums  my  head — can  they  put  it  out? 
I do  not  expect  to  live.  But  do  not  be  anxious  about  me,  for  my  end  is  coming,  and  I must  soon 
ask  you  to  carry  me  to  Sainte  Marie.  I wish  to  die  there,  and  to  be  buried  among  the  good  Chris- 
tians. . . . 

“ This  little  angel  was  brought  to  us,  and  died  in  our  arms,  praying  to  the  end.  and  assuring  ns 
that  he  was  going  straight  to  Heaven,  where  he  would  pray  to  God  for  ns  all;  and  he  even  asked 
his  mother  to  tell  him  for  which  of  his  relations  he  should  pray  most,  when  he  would  be  with  God, 
and  when  his  prayers  would  without  doubt  be  heard.  He  was  heard;  for  shortly  after  his  death, 
one  of  his  uncles,  a man  who  had  been  among  the  most  rebellions  to  the  Faith  in  this  country, 
as  well  as  one  of  his  aunts,  demanded  instmetion  at  our  hands,  and  became  Christians." — Father 
Paul  Bagueneau,  S.  J.,  Belation  de  ce  gvi  est  passe  en  la  mission  des  Plres  de  la  Compagnie  de 
Jesus,  aux  Hmvns,  pais  de  la  Nduvelle  France,  aux  annies  1648  et  1649. 

' The  year  before,  1648,  St.  Joseph’s  was  destroyed  by  a hostile  band  of  Iroquois.  It  was  early 
in  the  morning.  Mass  was  just  finished  by  Father  Daniel.  The  war-whoop  of  the  Iroquois  rang 
in  the  ears  of  the  panic-stricken  villagers.  Rallying  the  defenders,  the  heroic  priest  gave  them 
absolution.  ‘‘  Brothers,”  he  exclaimed,  *•  to-day  we  shall  be  in  Heaven  1 ” And  to  his  flock  he 
cried,  ‘ Fly  I I will  stay  here.  We  shall  meet  again  in  Heaven.”  As  the  defenders  were  few,  th» 
carnage  soon  began.  On  seeing  Daniel  in  the  bright  robes  of  hie  office,  the  heathen  savages 
stared  for  a moment  in  amazement.  Then  came  a volley  of  arrows.  A musket-ball  pierced  the 
Tesnit’s  heart,  and  he  fell  murmuring  the  holy  name  of  Jesus.  This  occurred  three  days  after  hi* 
retreat.  He  died  a saint  and  martyr. 


BAPTISM  OF  INDIANS  AT  PORT  ROYAL 


FATHER  JOHN  BE  BR&BETJF,  S.  J. 


425 


The  enth’isiasm,  which  with  many  is  fitful  and  spasmodic, 
was  with  him  the  current  of  his  life,  solemn  and  deep  as  the 
tide  of  destiny.  The  Divine  Trinity,  the  Holy  Virgin,  the 
J5aints,  Heaven  and  hell,  angels  and  fiends,  to  him  these 
alone  were  real,  and  all  things  else  were  naught.” 

De  Brebeuf  was,  in  truth,  a man  of  the  sublimest  virtue. 
Let  the  pen  of  one  of  his  famous  companions  describe  his 
hristian  greatness:  “When  he  was  made  Superior  of  the 
Huron  mission,”  writes  Father  Ragueneau,  “and  had  many 
others  under  his  charge,  every  one  admired  his  skill  in  the 
management  of  affairs,  his  sweetness,  which  gained  all  hearts, 
his  heroic  courage  in  every  undertaking,  his  long-suffering 
in  awaiting  the  moments  of  God’s  good  pleasure,  his  pa- 
tience in  enduring  everything,  and  his  zeal  in  undertaking 
whatever  might  promote  God’s  glory.  His  humility  in- 
clined him  to  embrace  with  love,  with  joy,  and  even  with 
natural  relish,  whatever  was  most  lowly  and  painful. 

“If  on  a journey  he  carried  the  heaviest  burdens,  if 
traveling  in  canoes  he  paddled  from  morning  till  night,  it 
was  he  who  threw  himself  first  into  the  water  and  was  the 
last  to  leave  it,  notwithstanding  the  rigor  of  the  cold  and 
the  ice.  He  was  the  first  up  in  the  morning  to  make  a fire 
and  prepare  breakfast,  and  he  was  the  last  to  retire,  finish- 
ing his  prayers  and  devotions  after  the  others  had  gone  to 
repose. 

“What  is  most  remarkable  is,  that  in  all  the  labors  he 
thus  took  upon  himself,  he  did  everything  so  quietly  and 
dexterously  that  one  would  have  believed  that  he  had  but 
acted  in  accordance  with  his  natural  inclination.  ‘ I am 
but  an  ox,’  he  w’as  wont  to  say,  alluding  to  the  meaning  of 
his  name  in  French ; T am  fit  for  nothing  but  carrying 
burdens.’ 

“To  the  continual  sufferings  which  were  inseparable  from 
his  employment  in  the  missions,  he  added  a number  of  vol- 
untary mortifications,  of  inflictions  of  the  discipline  every 
day,  and  often  twice  in  the  day,  of  frequents  fasts,  of  hair 
shirts,  of  girdles  around  his  body,  armed  with  iron  points, 
of  watchings, which  were  protracted  far  into  the  night.  And 


426  FATHER  JOHN  DE  BB6BEUF,  S.  J. 

after  all,  his  heart  was  not  yet  satiated  with  sufferings,  and 
he  believed  that  what  he  had  hitherto  endured  was  nothing. 

“ His  meekness  was  the  virtue  which  seemed  to  transcend 
all  the  others.  It  was  proof  against  every  trial.  For 
twelve  years  that  I have  known  him,”  continues  Father 
Ragueneau,  “ that  I have  seen  him  alternately  superior, 
inferior,  and  on  an  equality  with  others,  sometimes  engaged 
in  temporal  affairs,  sometimes  in  missionary  toils  and  labors, 
dealing  with  the  savages,  whether  Christians,  infidels,  or 
enemies,  in  the  midst  of  sufferings,  of  persecution,  and  of 
calumny,  I never  once  saw  him  either  in  anger  or  manifest- 
ing the  slightest  indication  of  displeasure.  Occasionally, 
even,  some  persons  tried  to  pique  him  on  purpose,  and  to 
surprise  him  in  those  things  to  which  they  thought  his  .sen- 
sibility would  be  the  most  alive,  but  always  his  eye  would 
be  benign,  his  words  full  of  sweetness,  and  his  heart  in  an 
unalterable  calm.” 

Stationed  at  the  village  of  St.  Louis  were  Father  de 
Brebeuf  and  his  slender  and  apparently  youthful  companion, 
Father  Gabriel  Lallemant.  We  have  already  referred  to  the 
Iroquois  raid  by  which  Father  Daniel  met  a glorious  death. 
Those  hostile  savages,  encouraged  by  the  success  of  this 
first  attempt,  determined  to  pay,  at  some  future  time,  an- 
other and  more  dreadful  visit  to  the  Huron  country.  Be- 
fore the  dawn  of  day  on  the  16th  of  March,  1649,  a force  of 
about  one  thousand  Iroquois  warriors  suddenly  attacked 
the  village  of  St.  Ignatius.  The  place  was  carried  by  assault. 
Out  of  four  hundred  inhabitants,  but  three  escaped  over  the 
snow  to  carry  the  alarm  to  St.  Louis,  only  three  miles  dis- 
tant ! It  was  scarcely  sunrise  when  the  swift-footed  Mo- 
hawks surrounded  the  doomed  village  in  which  dwelt  the 
Apostle  of  the  Hurons. 

The  details  of  the  fierce  struggle  and  awful  carnage  that 
make  that  place  memorable  were  learned  from  a few  Indians 
who  escaped  to  St.  Marie,  and  they  can  be  found  in  the 
old  Relation  of  that  year. 

When  the  three  fugitives  from  St.  Ignatius  reached  the 
still  slumbering  village  of  St.  Louis,  they  spread  the  alarm 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BRHBEUF,  S.  J. 


427 


with  telegraphic  rapidity.  The  Christian  Indians  entreated 
De  Brebeuf  to  save  his  life — to  fly  with  them.  But,  in  the 
words  of  Parkman,  “ the  bold  scion  of  a warlike  stock  had 
no  thought  of  flight.  His  post  was  in  the  teeth  of  danger, 
to  cheer  on  those  who  fought,  and  to  open  Heaven  to  those 
who  fell.  His  colleague,  slight  of  frame  and  frail  of  con- 
stitution, trembled  despite  himself;  but  deep  enthusiasm 
mastered  the  weakness  of  nature,  and  he,  too,  refused  to 
fly.” 

Out  of  the  seven  hundred  inhabitants  all  availed  them- 
selves of  the  opportunity  to  escape,  save  about  eighty  war- 
riors, who  determined  to  sell  their  lives  dearly.  The  war- 
whoop  of  the  fierce  Iroquois  shook  the  very  wigwams,  as 
yell  echoed  yell,  and  shot  answered  shot. 

“ The  combat  deepens  ; 

On,  ye  brave  ! ” 

The  iron  and  dauntless  De  Brebeuf  and  his  gentle  compan- 
ion employed,  says  the  old  Relation,  every  moment  of  their 
time,  as  the  most  precious  of  their  lives,  and  during  the 
hottest  of  the  contest  their  hearts  were  all  on  fire  for  the 
salvation  of  souls.  One  of  them  was  at  the  breach  baptizing 
the  catechumens;  the  other  was  giving  absolution  to  the 
Christian  braves.  Seeing  things  were  desperate,  a heathen 
Huron  urged  flight. 

His  words  w'ere  heard  by  the  fearless  Stephen  Annaotaha, 
the  distinguished  Christian  chief  of  the  village.  “ What  !” 
exclaimed  the  brave  chief,  “shall  we  abandon  these  good 
Fathers,  who,  for  our  sakes,  have  exposed  their  own  lives  \ 
The  love  they  have  for  our  salvation  will  be  the  cause  of 
their  death.  There  is  no  longer  time  for  them  to  fly  across 
the  snows.  Let  us,  then,  die  with  them,  and  in  their  com- 
pany we  shall  go  to  Heaven.”  This  chief  had  made  a gen- 
eral confession  but  a few  days  before,  having  had  a presen- 
timent of  the  threatened  danger,  and  having  said  that  he 
wished  death  to  find  him  ripe  for  the  land  beyond  the 
skies. 

The  fierce  but  unequal  contest  continued  until  several 


428 


FATHER  JOHN  DS  BREBEUF,  S.  J. 


breaches  were  made  in  the  palisades.  A yell  of  triumph 
announced  the  victory  of  the  Iroquois.  Fathers  de  Brebeuf 
and  Lallemant  and  a few  Huron  warriors  were  made  pris- 
oners. The  town  was  fired. 

Immediately  after  their  capture,  the  Fathers  were  stripped 
of  their  clothing,  had  their  finger-nails  torn  out  by  the  roots, 
and  were  borne  in  wild  triumph  to  the  village  of  St.  Igna- 
tius, which  had  been  taken  the  same  morning.  On  entering 
its  gates  they  both  receiveda  showerof  blows  on  their  shoul- 
ders, loins,  and  stomach,  no  part  of  their  exposed  bodies 
escaping  contumely.  In  the  midst  of  this  cruelty  the  un- 
conquerable De  Brebeuf  thought  only  of  others.  His  eye 
kindling  with  sacred  fire,  he  addressed  the  Christian  Hurons 
who  were  his  fellow-captives  : 

“My  children  ! Let  us  lift  up  our  eyes  to  Heaven  in  the 
midst  of  our  sufferings  ; let  us  remember  that  God  is  a wit- 
ness of  our  torments,  and  that  He  will  soon  be  our  reward 
exceedingly  great.  Let  us  die  in  this  faith,  and  trust  in 
His  goodness  for  the  fulfillment  of  His  promises.  I feel 
more  for  you  than  for  myself ; but  bear  with  courage  the 
few  torments  which  yet  remain.  They  will  terminate  with 
our  lives.  The  glory  which  will  follow  them  will  have  no 
end  ! ' ’ 

EcTion,''’  they  all  replied,  “our  hopes  shall  be  in  Heaven, 
while  our  bodies  are  suffering  on  earth.  Pray  to  God  for 
us,  that  He  will  grant  us  mercy.  We  will  invoke  him  even 
unto  death.” 

Enraged  at  these  words  of  the  heroic  Jesuit,  the  Iroquois 
led  him  apart  and  bound  him  to  a stake.  These  fiendish 
savages  scorched  him  from  head  to  foot  to  silence  him, 
whereupon,  in  the  tone  of  a master,  he  threatened  them  with 
everlasting  flames  for  persecuting  the  worshipers  of  God. 
As  he  continued  to  speak  with  voice  and  countenance  un- 
changed, they  cut  away  his  lower  lip,  and  thrust  a red-hot 
iron  down  his  throat.  He  still  held  his  lofty  form  erect  and  d '- 
fiant,  with  no  sign  or  sound  of  pain,  and  they  tried  another 
means  to  overcome  him.  They  led  out  Lallemant,  that  De 
Brebeuf  might  see  him  tortured.  They  had  tied  strips  of 


FATHER  JOHN  DE  BREBEUF,  S.  J. 


429 


bark  smeared  witk  pitch  about  his  naked  body.  When 
Lallemant  saw  the  condition  of  his  Superior  he  could  not 
hide  his  agitation,  and  called  out  to  him,  with  a broken 
voice,  in  the  words  of  St.  Paul,  “We  are  made  a spectacle 
to  the  v/orld,  to  angels,  and  to  men.”  Then  he  threw  him- 
self at  De  Brebeuf  s feet,  upon  which  the  Iroquois  seized 
him,  made  him  fast  to  a stake,  and  set  fire  to  the  bark  that 
enveloped  him.  As  the  flames  rose  he  threw  his  arms  up- 
ward with  a shriek  of  supplication  to  Heaven.  Next  they 
hung  around  De  Brebeuf  s neck  a collar  made  of  hatchets 
heated  ret-hot,  but  the  indomitable  priest  stood  it  like  a 
rock. 

A Huron  in  the  crowd,  who  had  been  a convert  of  the 
mission,  but  was  now  an  Iroquois  by  adoption,  called  out, 
with  the  malice  of  a renegade,  to  pour  hot  water  on  their 
heads,  since  they  poured  so  much  cold  water  on  those  of 
others.  The  kettle  was  accordingly  slung,  and  the  water 
boiled  and  poured  slowly  on  the  heads  of  the  two  mission- 
aries. “We  baptize  you,”  the  wretches  cried,  “that  you 
may  be  happy  in  Heaven,  for  nobody  can  be  saved  without 
a good  Baptism.”  De  Brebeuf  did  not  flinch,  and  in  a rage 
they  cut  strips  of  flesh  from  his  limbs,  and  devoured  them 
before  his  eyes. 

Other  renegade  Hurons  called  out  to  him,  “You  told 
us  that  the  more  one  suffers  on  earth  the  happier  he  is  in 
Heaven.  We  wish  to  make  you  happy.  We  torment  you 
because  we  love  you,  and  you  ought  to  thank  us  for  it.” 
After  a succession  of  other  revolting  tortures,  they  scalped 
him,  when  seeing  him  nearly  dead,  they  laid  open  his 
breast,  and  came  in  a crowd  to  drink  the  blood  of  so  valiant 
an  enemy,  thinking  to  imbibe  with  it  some  portion  of  his 
marvelous  courage.  A chief  then  tore  out  his  heart  and  de- 
voured it. 

And  thus  died  Father  John  de  Brebeuf,  the  founder  of  the 
Huron  mission,  its  truest  hero  and  its  greatest  martyr.  He 
came  of  a noble  race,  the  same,  it  is  said,  from  which  sprang 
the  English  Earls  of  Arundel ; but  never  had  the  mailed 
Barons  of  his  line  confronted  a fate  so  appalling  with  so 


430 


FATHER  JOHN  HE  BEEBEUF,  8.  J. 


prodigious  a constancy.  To  the  last  he  refused  to  flinch, 
and  his  death  was  the  astonishment  of  his  inhuman  mur- 
derers.* 

We  hope  yet  to  see  the  cause  of  the  beatification  of  this 
famous  martyr  and  missionary  brought  forward  in  due 
form.  Who  can  doubt  but  that  he  now  shines  among  the 
Saints?  Great,  indeed,  must  have  been  the  virtue,  faith, 
and  heroism  which  enabled  him  to  triumph  over  human 
weakness,  and  so  grandly  meet  his  awful  fate.  Immortal 
man ! master  of  every  virtue,  humble  beyond  expression, 
meek  to  admiration,  enduring  unheard-of  toils  and  sufferings 
with  joy,  brave  far  beyond  the  bravest  of  this  world,  illus- 
trious in  life  and  sublime  in  death. 

Such  a shining  Christian  hero  as  Father  John  de  Brebeuf 
the  Ancient  Faith  alone  can  produce.  Passing  from  the 
visible  to  the  invisible,  what  glory  doubtless  illumined  that 
rare  soul!  For,  “it  should  ever  be  remembered,”  says  a 
well-known  writer,  “that  the  exterior  work  of  a saint  is 
but  a small  portion  of  his  real  life.  Men  are  ever  searching 
for  the  beautiful  in  nature  and  art,  buc  they  rarely  search 
for  the  beauty  of  a human  soul,  yet  this  beauty  is  immor- 
tal. Something  of  its  radiance  appears  at  times  even  to 
human  eyes,  and  men  are  overawed  by  the  majesty  or  won 
by  the  sweetness  of  the  saints  of  God.  But  it  needs  saintli- 
ness to  discern  sanctity,  even  as  i;  needs  cultivated  taste  to 
discern  art.  A thing  of  beauty  is  a joy  only  to  those  who 
can  discern  its  beauty.’” 

• Parkrnan. 

’ The  head  of  Father  de  Brebeuf  in  a silver  shrine  is  preserved  with  great  veneration  at  Qne 
bee.  Several  miracles  have  been  wrought  by  the  holy  intercession  of  this  illnstrions  martyr-mis- 
sionary See  “Vie  de  Jean  de  Brgbeuf,”  par  le  R.  P.  Martin,  pp.  28S— 92. 

Father  lalcment  also  met  his  end  with  tme  Christian  heroism.  He  lived  till  the  next  day  ; 
and  “ when  the  snn  had  risen,  on  the  17th  of  March,  they  closed  his  long  martyrdom  by  toma- 
hawking him,  and  left  his  body  a black  and  mangled  mass.” 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  j. 

THE  APOSTLE  OF  MARYLAJ^D.' 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  EARLY  LIFE  OF  A YOUXG  PRIEST  IN  THE  SEVEN- 
TEENTH CENTURY, 

Date  of  White  s birth — The  England  of  three  centuries 
ago — Persecution  and  robbery — Little  known  of  White's 
early  years — His  home  education — '■'■Popery''’  a low 
word  and  a nickname — Young  White  at  Douay — Pe- 
turns  home  a priest — England  as  a priest-hunter — Fa- 
ther White's  banishment — Enters  the  Society  of  Jesus — 
Labors  as  a professor  in  tarious  Universities — His 
great  learning. 

We  must  go  back  three  centuries.  Some  time  in  the  year 
1579  there  was  born  in  London,  England,  a child  whose 
name  was  destined  to  become  familiar  in  the  annals  of  Mary- 
land, and  to  shine  brightly  in  the  pages  of  American  his- 
tory. It  was  a sadly  curious  period.  For  a thousand  years 
England  had  been  Catholic.  Catholics  had  created  Oxford 
and  Cambridge,  and  made  England  a nation.  But  now  all 
was  charged.  A new  belief  suddenly  sprang  into  existence, 
and,  in  the  name  of  the  Bible  and  the  Ten  Commandments, 
Catholics  were  robbed  of  their  rights  and  their  possessions, 

Chief  anttaoritiee  nged:  Father  White,  8.  J.,  “Relatio  Itineris  in  Marylandiam;”  The  Tnited 
Statex  CathoTc  Magazine,  \o\s.i  and 7;  The  Meiivpolitan,  Vol.  4;  S.  F.  Streeter,  “Papers 
Relating  to  the  Early  History  of  Maryland;”  J.  G.  Shea,  “ History  of  the  Catholic  Missions  tn 
the  United  States;”  J.  McSherry,  “H'stoiy  of  Maryland;”  “A  Popular  History  of  the  Catholic 
Chnrch  in  the  United  States,”  and  several  other  wo.-ks. 


431 


432 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


and  persecuted  like  wild  beasts  of  the  wilderness.  We 
glance  at  that  barbarous  age,  and  the  mind  sickens.  Eliza- 
beth, the  able,  vile,  imperious,  and  illegitimate  daughter  of 
Henry  VIII.,  reigned.  Modern  Judases  sold  the  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ  for  pieces  of  money  and  acres  of  monastic  soil. 
A pocket-filling  zeal  moved  the  country.  Sacrilegious 
wretches,  so  to  speak,  brought  bills  of  damages  against 
Almighty  God;  and  knaves,  scoundrels,  and  apostates  made 
war  on  the  holy  Faith  of  their  fathers.  This  was  England 
in  the  young  days  of  Andrew  White,  the  future  ^‘Apostle 
of  Ma.ryland.-’ 

Of  his  parents  or  early  years  we  know  next  to  nothing 
Time  has  destroyed  the  record,  if  any  ever  existed.  But 
w'e  can  easily  imagine  how  Andrew  AVhite  was  brought  up. 
In  those  unhappy  days,  there  were  no  Catholic  schools  for 
Catholic  children  to  attend-  Protestant  England  informed 
the  Catholic  that  for  him  knowledge  was  forbidden  fruit. 
Catholic  parents  were  therefore  obliged  to  educate  their 
children  in  secret  in  the  bosom  of  their  own  families.  The 
firm  faith,  the  tender  piety,  and  the  untiring  zeal  which 
so  beautifully  illustrate  the  whole  life  of  Father  White, 
may  well  warrant  us  in  supposing  that  in  his  youth  he  re- 
ceived under  the  paternal  roof  and  in  secrecy  and  conceal- 
ment— which  in  those  times  were  only  a precarious  protec- 
tion from  the  keen  eye  of  tyranny — a thoroughly  Catholic 
and  profoundly  religious  training  from  his  worthy  parents. 

the  laws  of  apostate  England,  “Papists’’ ' forfeited  $50  a 
month,  if  they  educated  their  children  at  home;  if  they  sent 
them  abroad  to  a Catholic  school,  the  forfeiture  was  $500, 

1 We  quote  this  word  merely  to  mark  it,  and  place  our  heel  upon  it.  It  belongs  to  the  coarse 
vocabulary  of  sectarian  blackguardism.  “ Papist,”  “ Popish,”  “Popery,”  “ Romish,”  “ Roman- 
ist,” “ Romanism.”  These  offensive  terms  wore  formerly  applied  to  Catholics  by  their  \irulent 
Protestant  persecutors.  The  same  unholy  and  uncuUured  spirit  that  produced  the  penal  iaw;- 
gave  the  world  this  mongrel  brood  of  ragged,  boorish  words.  “ Papist”  was  first  used,  it  is  said, 
by  Martin  Luther  as  a nickname  for  Catholics.  The  others,  it  appears,  had  their  origin  in  Eng- 
land. But  the  writer  who  clothes  his  ideas  in  such  terminology  to-day  loudly  proclaims  his  own 
bad  taste,  bigotry,  and  vulgarity.  Such  words  are  outcasts— literary  eye-sores— forbidden  alike 
by  courtesy,  good  sense,  scholarship,  and,  above  all,  elegance  o'  style.  Things  and  persons 
should  be  called  by  their  right  names.  Even  “a  spade  should  be  called  a spade;”  and,  with 
much  greater  reason,  a Catholic  should  be  called  a Catholic.  If  we  do  not  ask  more  than  this,  at 
least  we  shall  be  satisfied  with  no  less. 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


433 


and  “the  children  themselves  were  disabled  from  inheriting, 
purchasing,  or  enjoying  any  land,  profits,  goods,  debts, 
duties,  legacies,  or  sums  of  money.”  But  the  persecutions 
of  the  cruel  reign  of  Elizabeth  did  not  deter  the  noble 
young  White  from  aspiring  to  the  sacred  ministry,  and 
seeking  the  fount  of  knowledge  in  a strange  land. 

By  the  zeal  of  the  pious  and  learned  Catholic  professors 
who  were  banished  from  Oxford  — and  especially  the  famous 
Cardinal  Allen — an  English  College  was  established  at 
Douay  in  1568.  The  Catholic  students  of  Oreat  Britain  for 
nearly  two  centuries  and  a half  directed  their  steps  to  this 
famous  institution.  Here  the  flame  of  faith  was  nourished, 
and  the  light  of  knowledge  shone,  when  all  was  bigotry  and 
religious  darkness  in  the  once  Catholic  land  of  England — 
the  home  of  the  holy  Bede,  the  great  Alfred,  and  the 
dauntless  Cceur  de  Lion.  Here  were  trained  those  bands  of 
devoted  priests  who  boldly  laid  down  their  lives  in  laboring 
TO  restore  the  true  Faith  among  their  unhappy  country- 
men. Here  our  Catholic  Bible  was  translated  into  English. 
Here  the  wise  and  learned  Alban  Butler,  author  of  the 
“Lives  of  the  Saints,’'  received  his  education.  And  here, 
likewise,  the  future  Apostle  of  Maryland  earnestly  studied, 
and  labored  to  prepare  himself  for  the  duties  of  his  high 
and  holy  calling. 

Father  White  was  ordained  about  the  year  1605.  As  a 
secular  priest,  he  returned  to  England,  and  began  to  labor 
on  the  London  mission.  But  as  the  penal  laws  were  rigidly 
enforced,  it  was  necessary  to  temper  zeal  with  the  utmost 
prudence.  Yet,  in  spite  of  all  precautions,  his  sacred  char- 
acter was  discovered.  The  fierce  Mohawk,  ranging  the  forests 
of  New  York,  was  not  more  eager  and  skillful  on  an  ene- 
my’s trail,  than  the  fanatical  and  barbarous  government  of 
England  in  search  of  a Catholic  priest.  And  in  truth  the 


' Of  the  extent  of  the  piety  and  capacity  of  the  men  who  took  the  places  of  the  banished  Cath- 
olic professors,  it  is  only  necessary  to  have  the  testimony  of  Anthony  Wood.  In  his  “History 
and  .Antiquities  of  the  Universl.yof  Oxford.  ’ Wood  states  that  in  1563— the  fifth  year  of  the 
reign  of  Elizabeth— there  w ere  but  three  theologians  at  Oxford  capable  c f preaching  a sermon  in 
public  I 


484 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


humanity  of  the  American  Indian  compares  very  favorably 
with  that  of  the  Protestant  Briton.  The  same  year  that 
Father  White  returned  to  England  from  Douay,  the  saintly 
poet  and  Jesuit,  Southwell,'  was  brutally  tortured  on  the 
rack  ten  different  times^  and  finally  executed  with  the  most 
revolting  cruelties.  And  why  ? For  the  unpardonable 
crime  of  being  a Catholic  clergyman! 

In  1606,  we  find  the  name  of  Father  White  in  a list  of  forty- 
seven  priests,  who,  from  different  prisons,  were  sent  into 
perpetual  banishment.  During  the  following  year  he  ap- 
plied for  admission  into  the  Society  of  Jesus;  went  through 
his  novitiate  of  two  years  at  Louvain;  and  again  returned 
to  England,  where  for  some  time  he  labored  as  a mission- 
ary. For  the  priest,  however,  who  returned  to  England 
after  banishment,  the  penalty  was  death.  Father  W^hite 
was  in  constant  peril.  But  he  was  soon  recalled  to  the  Con- 
tinent, and  sent  to  Spain  as  a tutor'to  English  Catholic  stu- 
dents, who  received  in  two  or  three  seminaries  in  that 
country  an  education  to  qualify  them  for  the  sacred  minis- 
try in  their  native  land.  While  in  Spain,  he  filled  the  pro- 
fessorships of  Scripture,  scholastic  theology,  and  Hebrew. 
He  became  a professed  Jesuit  in  1619.  The  pious  and 
accomplished  scholar  afterwards  taught  divinity — first  at 
Louvain,  and  then  at  Liege,  in  Belgium.  He  is  described 
as  “a  man  of  transcendent  talents.” 


• Father  Soutb^veil,  S.  J.,  has  the  merit  of  being  the  founder  of  the  modem  religions  poetry  of 
England.  He  was  the  religions  Goldsmith  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  one  of  the  real  refiners  of 
the  English  langnage. 


CHAPTER  IL 

THE  VOYAGE  TO  MARYLAND. 

The  New  Gatholic  Colony — The  '‘'■ArTc'^  and  the  Sail 

from  the  Isle  of  Wight — The  Relatio  Itineris  in 

Marylandiamf  note — “ The  sea^  the  sea,  the  open 
sea'' — Fear  of  the  Turks — A violent  storm — The  ^'‘Dove'' 
thought  to  have  perished — A dreadful  tempest  and  Fa- 
ther White' s prayer — Sunshine  on  the  sea — A Provi 
dential  incident — The  Flying  Fish — The  Isle  of  Bar- 
hadoes — Deliverance  from  a new  danger — Cabbage  180 
feet  high — The  soap  tree — The  pine-apple — Matalina 
and  its  wild  men — The  “ Garbunca" — Montserrat  and 
its  '•'‘Exiles  of  Erin" — Courtesy  at  St.  Christopher' s — 
A sulphurous  mountain — The  locust  tree — Nearing 
the  end. 

Father  White  was  not  simply  a learned  man  and  a good 
priest.  He  was  more.  He  was  an  apostle  full  of  zeal  for 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls,  and  he  was 
soon  to  toil  in  a new  and  rich  field,  where  none  had  labored 
before  him.  At  this  time,  the  Catholic  Lord  Baltimore  was 
maturing  the  noble  idea  of  founding  a colony  in  America 
as  a refuge  for  his  persecuted  co-religionists.  The  territory 
granted  by  Charles  I.  for  this  purpose  w'as  named  Mary- 
land. Lord  Baltimore  made  application  to  the  General  of 
the  Society  of  Jesus  for  some  Fathers  to  attend  to  the  sj^ir- 
itual  wants  of  the  Catholic  planters  and  settlers,  and  to  labor 
for  the  conversion  of  the  Indians.  For  this  mission.  Fa- 
ther White  was  selected  as  Superior.  His  companions  were 
Father  John  Altham,  and  two  lay  brothers  of  the  Society 
—Thomas  Gervase  and  John  Knowles. 


435 


436 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


Two  small  vessels  named  the  ArTc  and  the  Dove'  were  fit 
ted  out  for  the  expedition;  and  about  two  hundred  emi- 
grants, nearly  all  of  whom  were  Catholics  and  gentlemen  vx 
fortune  and  respectability,  prepared  to  cross  the  Atlantic, 
desiring  to  fly  from  the  black  spirit  of  intolerance  which 
pervaded  England,  and  to  rear  up  their  altars  in  freedom  in 
the  wilderness.  Lord  Baltimore  appointed  his  brother, 
Leonard  Calvert,  Grovernor  of  Maryland,  and  to  him  was 
given  command  of  the  expedition.  ‘ ‘ It  was  a mighty  un- 
dertaking,” says  McSherry,  “standing  out  in  history  as  an 
era  in  the  progress  of  mankind.” 

Fortunately,  the  interesting  narrative  of  the  voyage  was 
told  by  Father  White  himself;  and  the  graphic  picture  has 
not  been  lost  to  history  and  literature."  “On  the  22d  of 
November,”  he  writes,  “in  the  year  1633,  being  St.  Ce- 
cilia’s day,  we  set  sail  from  Cowes,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
with  a gentle  east  wind  blowing.  After  committing  the 
principal  parts  of  the  ship  to  the  protection  of  God  espec- 
ially, and  of  His  Most  Holy  Mother,  and  St.  Ignatius,  and 
all  the  guardian  angels  of  Maryland,  we  sailed  on  a lit- 
tle way  between  the  two  shores,  and  the  wind  failing  us,  we 
stopped  opposite  Yarmouth  Castle."  Here  we  were  received 
with  a cheerful  salute  of  artillery.”.  . . 

“On  the  23d  of  November,’”  he  continues,  “we  sailed 


' ‘ It  appears  from  the  Eislory  of  the  United  States,  by  Bancroft,  that  the  ship  spoken  of  was 
named  the  Ark,  but  that  the  smaller  one  was  called  the  Dove.  It  does  not  seem  to  have  been  by 
mere  chance  that  the  Pilgrims,  whom  heresy  had  forced  to  expatriate  themselves,  embarked  in 
the  Ark  of  Noah  and  the  Dove  sent  forth  by  the  Patriarch.” — Adnotationes  Notes  in  "Delatio 
llineris." 

* This  is  the  Eelatio  Itineris  in  Marylandiam,"  or  Narrative  of  a Voyage  to  Maryland.  It 
was  written  by  Father  White  about  a month  after  his  arrival  in  Maryland,  and  addressed  to  the 
General  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  to  whom  it  was  sent  as  a letter.  For  three  hundred  years  this 
precious  document  remained  unknown  to  the  world.  But  “ about  the  year  1832,  Rev.  William 
McSherry,  S.  J.,  discovered  in  the  archives  of  the  Domus  Professa  of  the  Society  in  Rome,  the 
originals  oi  the  MSS.  He  carefully  copied  these  MSS.,  and  placed  the  copies  in  the  Library  of 
Georgetown  College,  D.  C.,  of  which  Institution  he  afterwards  became  the  honored  Phtisident." 
This  MS.  has  been  several  times  printed;  and  as  recently  as  1874  a fine  edition,  with  a literal 
English  translation  was  carefully  edited  by  Rev.  Dr.  E.  A Darlyraple.  and  printed  by  John  Mur- 
phy, Baltimore,  Md.  To  Mr.  Murphy’s  kind  courtesy  the  writer  is  indebted  for  a copy  of  this 
last  edition  of  the  " Belatio." 

• Yarmouth  Castle  was  near  the  southern  end  of  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

The  pious  priest  remarks  that  it  was  St.  Clement’s  Day. 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE.  8.  J. 


437 


past  a number  of  rocks  near  the  end  of  the  Isle  of  W eight, 
which,  from  their  shape,  are  called  the  Needles.  These  are 
a terror  to  sailors,  on  account  of  the  double  tide  of  the  sea, 
which  whirls  away  the  ships,  dashing  them  against  the 
rocks  on  the  one  side,  or  the  neighboring  shore  on  the 
other. 

“Early  the  next  day  (Monday),  about  nine  o’clock,  we 
left  behind  us  the  western  promontory  of  England  and  the 
Scilly  Isles,  and  sailing  easily  on,  we  directed  our  course 
more  towards  the  west,  passing  over  the  British  Channel. 
Yet  we  did  not  hasten  as  much  as  we  could  have  done,  fear- 
ing if  we  left  the  pinnace ' too  far  behind  us  that  it  would 
become  the  prey  of  the  Turks  and  pirates  who  generally 
infest  that  sea. 

“It  came  to  pass,  that  a fine  merchant  ship  of  six  hun- 
dred tons,  named  the  Dragon,  while  on  her  way  to  Angola, 
from  London,  overtook  us  about  three  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. And  as  we  now  had  time  to  enjoy  a little  pleasure, 
after  getting  out  of  danger,  it  was  delightful  to  see  these 
two  ships,  with  fair  weather  and  a favorable  wind,  and  a great 
noise  of  trumpets,  trying  for  a whole  hour  to  outstrip  each 
other.  Our  ship  would  have  beaten  the  Dragon,  though 
we  did  not  use  our  topsail,  if  we  had  not  been  obliged  to 
stop  on  account  of  the  pinnace,  which  was  slower;  and  so 
we  yielded  the  palm  to  the  merchant  ship,  and  she  sailed 
by  us  before  evening,  and  passed  out  of  sight. 

“On  Sunday,  the  24th,  and  Monday,  the  25th  of  Novem- 
ber, we  had  fair  sailing  all  the  time  until  evening.  But 
presently,  the  wind  getting  round  to  the  north,  such  a ter- 
rible storm  arose,  that  the  merchant  ship  I spoke  of,  from 
London,  being  driven  back  on  her  course,  returned  to 
England.  Tliose  on  board  our  pinnace,  since  she  was 
only  a vessel  of  forty  tons,  began  to  lose  confidence 
in  her  strength,  and  sailing  near,  they  warned  us,  that  if 
they  apprehended  shipwreck  they  would  notify  us  by 
hanging  out  lights  from  the  mast-head.  We  meanwhile 


' That  is,  the  Dove. 


438 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


sailed  on  in  our  strong  ship  of  four  hundred  tons.  A 
Detter  could  not  be  built  of  wood  and  iron. 

“We  had  a very  skillful  ’'aptain,  and  so  he  was  given  his 
choice,  whether  he  would  return  to  England,  or  keep  on 
struggling  with  the  winds.  If  he  yielded  to  these,  the 
Irish  shore  close  by  awaited  us.  It  is  noted  for  its  hidden 
rocks  and  many  shipwrecks.  But  our  captain’s  bold  spirit, 
and  his  desire  to  test  the  strength  of  the  new  ship,  which  he 
managed  for  the  first  time,  triumphed.  He  resolved  to  try 
the  sea,  though  he  confessed  that  it  was  the  more  danger- 
ous on  account  of  its  being  so  narrow. 

“The  danger  was  near  at  hand.  The  winds  increased,  the 
sea  grew  more  boisterous,  and  we  could  see  the  pinnace  in 
the  distance,  showing  two  lights  at  her  mast-head.  Then, 
indeed,  we  thought  it  was  all  over  with  her,  and  that  she 
was  swallowed  up  in  the  deep  whirlpools.  In  a moment 
she  passed  out  of  sight.  No  news  of  her  reached  us  for 
months  afterwards.  Accordingly,  we  were  all  of  us  cer- 
tain the  pinnace  was  lost;  yet  God  had  better  things  in 
store  for  us,  for  the  fact  was,  that  finding  herself  no  match 
for  the  violence  of  the  sea,  she  had  avoided  the  Virginian  ' 
Ocean — with  which  we  were  already  contending — and  re- 
turned to  England.  Making  a fresh  start  thence,  she  over- 
took us  at  a large  harbor  in  the  Antilles.’  And  thus  God, 
who  oversees  the  smallest  things,  guided,  protected,  and 
took  care  of  the  little  vessel! 

“We  being  ignorant,  however,  of  her  safety,  were  dis- 
tressed with  grief  and  anxiety,  which  the  gloomy  night, 
filled  with  manifold  terrors,  increased.  When  day  dawned 
although  the  wind  was  against  us,  being  from  the  south- 
west, yet,  as  it  did  not  blow  very  hard,  we  sailed  on  grad- 
ually by  making  frequent  tacks;  so  Tuesday.  Wednesday, 
and  Thursday  passed  with  variable  winds,  and  we  made 
small  progress.  On  Friday  a southeast  wind  prevailed,  and 
drove  before  it  thick  and  dark  clouds.  Towards  evening  a 


• The  Atlantic  Ocean. 

* The  Dove  overtook  the  Ark  at  the  Island  ef  Barbadoes. 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


439 


dreadful  tempest  broke  forth;  and  it  seemed  every  minute 
as  if  we  would  be  swallowed  up  by  the  waves. 

“Nor  was  the  weather  more  promising  on  the  next  day, 
which  was  the  Festival  of  St.  Andrew,  the  Apostle.  The 
clouds,  accumulating  in  a frightful  manner,  were  fearful  to 
behold;  and  excited  the  belief  that  all  the  malicious  spirits 
of  the  storm  and  all  the  evil  genii  of  Maryland  had  come 
forth  to  battle  against  us.  Towards  evening  the  captain 
saw  a sunfish  swimming,  with  great  efforts,  against  the 
course  of  the  sun,  which  is  a very  sure  sign  of  a terrible 
storm.  Nor  did  the  omen  prove  false. 

“About  ten  o’clock  at  night,  a dark  cloud  poured  forth 
a violent  shower.  Such  a furious  hurricane  followed  close 
upon  it,  that  it  was  necessary  to  run  with  all  speed  to  take 
in  sail;  and  this  could  not  be  done  quickly  enough  to  pre 
vent  the  main  sail — the  only  one  we  were  carrying — from 
being  torn  in  the  middle  from  top  to  bottom.  A part  of  it 
was  blown  over  into  the  sea,  and  was  recovered  with 
difficulty. 

“At  this  critical  moment,  the  minds  of  the  bravest 
among  us  were  struck  with  terror.  The  sailors  acknowl- 
edged that  they  had  seen  other  ships  wrecked  in  a less 
severe  storm;  but  this  hurricane  called  forth  the  prayers 
and  vows  of  the  Catholics  in  honor  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
Mary,  and  her  Immaculate  Conception;  of  St.  Ignatius,  the 
patron  saint  of  Maryland;  St.  Michael,  and  all  the  guardian 
angels  of  the  same  country.  Each  one  hastened  to  purge 
his  soul  by  the  sacrament  of  Penance.  All  conliol  over  the 
rudder  being  lost,  the  ship  now  drifted  about  like  a fish  in 
the  water,  at  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and  waves,  until  God 
showed  us  a way  of  safety. 

“At  first,  I confess,  I had  been  engrossed  with  the  ap- 
prehension of  the  ship’s  being  lost,  and  of  losing  my  own 
life ; but  after  I had  spent  some  time  in  praying  more  fer- 
vently than  was  my  usual  custom,  and  had  set  forth  to 
Christ  the  Lord,  to  t.l?«  Blessed  Virgin,  St.  Ignatius,  and 
the  Angels  of  Maryland,  that  the  purpose  of  this  journey 
was  to  glorify  the  Blood  of  our  Redeemer  in  the  salvation 


440 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


of  barbarians,  and  also  to  raise  np  a Kingdom  for  our  Lord— 
if  He  would  condescend  to  prosper  our  poor  efforts— to  con 
secrate  another  gift  to  the  Immaculate  Virgin,  His  Mother, 
and  many  things  to  the  same  effect,  great  comfort  shone 
in  upon  my  soul,  and  at  the  same  time  so  firm  a conviction 
that  we  should  be  delivered,  not  only  from  this  storm,  but 
from  every  other  during  that  voyage,  that  with  me  there  could 
be  no  room  left  for  doubt.  I had  betaken  myself  to  prayer 
when  the  sea  was  raging  at  its  worst ; and — may  this  be  to 
the  glory  of  God — I had  scarcely  finished  when  they  ob- 
served that  the  storm  was  abating.  That,  in  truth,  brought 
me  to  a new  frame  of  mind,  and  filled  me,  at  the  same  time, 
with  great  joy  and  admiration,  since  I understood  much 
more  clearly  the  greatness  of  God’s  love  towards  the  people 
of  Maryland.  Eternal  praises  to  the  most  sweet  gracious- 
ness of  the  Redeemer ! 

“After  this  sudden  abatement  of  the  storm,  we  had  de- 
lightful weather  for  three  months.  The  captain  and  his 
men  declared  that  they  had  never  seen  it  calmer  or  more 
pleasant,  for  not  even  for  a single  hour  did  we  suffer  any 
inconvenience.  When  I speak  of  three  months,  however, 
I do  not  mean  to  say  that  we  were  that  long  at  sea;  but  in 
this  I include  the  whole  voyage,  and  also  the  time  we 
stopped  at  the  Antilles.  The  actual  voyage  occupied  only 
seven  weeks  and  two  days;  and  that  is  considered  a quick 
passage.” 

Want  of  space  forbids  us  to  follow  the  venerable  writer 
in  his  minute  and  always  interesting  details  of  the  voyage. 
We  can  only  quote  a passage  here  and  there.  Safe  from 
the  wrath  of  the  elements,  the  Catholic  Pilgrim  Fathers  ol 
Maryland  did  not  feel  entirely  out  of  danger.  The  Turk  at 
that  time  was  a bold  fellow,  who  did  not  believe  in  being 
cooped  up  in  the  southeast  of  Europe.  “AVe  feared,” 
writes  Father  AVhite,  “that  we  might  meet  with  the  Turks, 
yet  we  fell  in  with  none  of  them.  They  had  gone  home, 
perhaps,  to  celebrate  a solemn  fast  which  took  place  at 
that  season  of  the  year.” 

Sailing  past  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar  and  the  Madeiras,  the 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


441 


stood  towards  the  west.  The  appearance  of  three  sus- 
picious-looking ships,  however,  caused  some  uneasiness;  for 
at  that  time  the  ocean  was  infested  with  pirates  and  free- 
booters. But,  adds  the  narrator,  they  “either  could  not 
overtake  us,  or  did  not  wish  to  give  chase.”  Such  inci- 
dents kept  the  voyage  free  from  monotony. 

“And  here  I cannot  pass  on,”  continues  the  Apostle  of 
Maryland,  “without  praising  the  Divine  goodness,  which 
brings  it  to  pass  that  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them 
that  love  God.  For,  if  meeting  with  no  delay,  we  had  been 
allowed  to  sail  at  the  time  we  had  appointed,  namely,  on  the 
20th  of  August,  the  sun  being  on  this  side  of  the  equator, 
and  striking  down  vertically,  the  intense  heat  would  not  only 
have  ruined  our  provisions,  but  would  have  brought  disease 
and  death  upon  almost  all  of  us.  We  were  saved  by  delay, 
and  escaped  misfortune  by  embarking  in  the  winter  time. 
If  you  except  the  usual  sea-sickness,  no  one  was  attacked 
by  any  disease  untO  Christmas.  In  order  that  that  festival 
might  be  better  kept,  wine  was  given  out;  and  those  who 
drank  it  too  freely  were  seized  the  next  day  with  a fever. 
About  twelve  died,  among  whom  were  two  Catholics.” 

Father  White  was  a keen  observer,  and,  it  appears,  nothing 
escaped  his  trained  eye.  ‘ ‘ While  continuing  our  voyage,”  he 
writes,  “ we  met  with  many  curious  things.  I may  mention 
flying  fish,  which  sometimes  swim  in  the  sea,  and  sometimes 
fly  up  in  the  air.  They  are  about  the  size  of  flounders,  or 
the  larger  giltheads,  and  very  much  resemble  these  in  their 
delicious  flavor.  A hundred  of  them  rise  up  into  the  air  at 
once,  when  flying  from  the  dolphins  which  pursue  them. 
Some  of  them  fell  into  our  ship,  their  wings  failing  them. 
In  one  flight  ihey  do  not  fly  over  a greater  space  than  two 
or  three  acres;  and  then,  because  their  fins  become  dried  in 
the  air,  they  plunge  into  the  water  again  and  venture  a 
second  time  into  the  air.” 

The  voyagers  touched  the  Island  of  Barbadoes,  in  the 
West  Indies,  on  the  3d  of  January,  1634.  Here  they  met 
with  a cold  reception.  “When  we  reached  this  island,” 
observes  Father  White,  “we  had  hope  of  securing  many 


442 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


articles  of  trade  from  the  English  inhabitants,  and  from  the 
Governor,  who  was  our  fellow-countryman  ; but,  forming  a 
combination,  they  determined  not  to  sell  us  any  wheat  for 
less  than  five  times  the  usual  rates.  They  had  no  beef  or 
muDton  at  any  price.” 

The  Almighty,  it  seems,  delivered  them  from  another  and 
a greater  danger.  “ The  servants  over  all  the  island,”  con- 
tinues the  good  Jesuit,  “had  conspired  to  kill  their  mas- 
ters. On  gaining  liberty  it  was  their  intention  to  seize  the 
first  ship  which  should  touch  there,  and  venture  to  sea.  A 
conspirator,  frightened  by  the  atrocious  cruelty  of  the  plot, 
disclosed  it ; and  the  punishment  of  one  of  the  leaders  was 
sufficient  for  the  security  of  the  island  and  our  own  safety. 
For  our  ship,  as  being  the  first  to  touch  there,  had  been 
marked  for  their  prey  ; and  on  the  very  day  we  landed  we 
found  eight  hundred  men  in  arms  to  oppose  this  wicked  de- 
sign, which  had  just  transpired.” 

Of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Barbadoes  and  the  natural  pro- 
ducts of  the  islands  Father  White  remarks  : “In  winter  the 
inhabitants  wear  linen  clothes  and  bathe  frequently.  . . . 
The  coarse  cloth  that  serves  them  for  a bed,  is  skilfully 
woven  out  of  cotton.  When  it  is  bedtime,  they  hang  this 
from  two  posts — one  at  each  end — and  sleep  in  it ; and  in 
the  daytime  they  carry  it  again  wherever  they  choose.  . . . 

“ There  is  a wonderful  kind  of  cabbage,*  which  has  a stalk 
that  grows  one  hundred  and  eighty  feet  high.  It  is  eaten 
either  raAv  or  boiled.  The  stalk  itself,  for  a cubit’s  length 
below  the  fruit,  is  considered  a delicacy.  When  eaten  raw, 
with  pepper,  it  excels  the  Spanish  thistle  (artichoke).  And, 
indeed,  it  is  much  like  a walnut  tree  that  has  been  stripped 
of  its  boughs.  The  immense  stalk  equals  tl^  size  of  a very 
large  tree.  It  bears  only  one  cabbage. 

“There  is  also  to  be  seen  there  a pretty  tall  tree  which 
they  call  the  soap-tree.  The  grains  (or  seeds)  of  soap  are 
no  larger  than  hazel  nuts,  and  they  have  a thick  mem- 
brane. Though  injurious  to  fine  linen,  they  are  said  to 
purify  and  cleanse  like  soap.  I carried  some  of  these  seeds 


‘ The  Cabbsge-tree,  or  Cabbage-Palm. 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J.  443 

with  me  to  Maryland,  and  planted  them,  hoping  for  trees 
in  the  future. 

“The  pine-apple  excels  all  the  other  fruits  that  I have 
tasted  anywhere  else  in  the  world.  It  is  of  a golden  color, 
is  excellent  when  mixed  with  wine,  and  is  as  large  as  three 
or  four  of  the  European  nuts  of  the  same  name.  It  may, 
undoubtedly,  be  called  the  queen  of  fruits.  It  has  a spicy 
taste,  which,  as  nearly  as  I can  guess,  is  like  that  of  straw- 
berries mixed  with  wine  and  sugar.  It  is  of  great  service 
in  preserving  health,  agreeing  so  nicely  with  the  humar 
constitution,  that,  although  it  corrodes  iron,  it  strengthens 
man  more  perhaps  than  anything  else.  Nor  do  you  find  it 
on  a high  tree.  It  is  a single  fruit,  coming  out  in  each  root 
like  the  artichoke.  I wish  I could  send  your  Paternity*  a 
specimen  with  this  letter.  For  nothing  but  itself  can  de- 
scribe it  according  to  its  excellence.” 

Tbe  cloud  of  son’ow  which  the  supposed  loss  of  the  Dove 
and  her  crew  had  cast  over  the  expedition  vanished  at  Bar- 
badoes.  Imagine  the  joy  of  those  on  the  Arlc,  as  the  little 
vessel  bore  in  sight,  and  joined  company  again,  after  a sepa- 
ration of  six  weeks.  On  the  night  of  the  terrific  storm 
which  parted  them,  the  Dove,  after  having  shown  her  sig- 
nal, no  longer  able  to  breast  the  storm,  had  changed  her 
course,  and  taken  refuge  in  the  Scilly  Islands,  whence,  the 
ship  Dragon  bearing  her  company  as  far  as  the  Bay  of 
Biscay,  she  sailed  in  pursuit  of  the  Ark,  and  had  now  over- 
taken her. 

“On  the  twenty-fourth  of  January,”  continues  the  Re- 
latio,  “we  weighed  anchor,  and  reached  Matalina  towards 
evening  on  the  following  day.  At  this  place  two  canoes  full 
of  naked  men  appeared.  They  kept  at  a distance,  seeming 
to  fear  our  huge  ship,  held  up  pumpkins  and  parrots,  and 
offered  to  exchange  them.  These  people  were  a race  of 
savages,  fat,  shining  with  red  paint,  who  knew  not  God, 
and  devoured  human  beings.  Some  time  before  they  had 
made  away  with  several  English  interpreters.  The  country 


* The  reader  '.vlll  remember  that  this  narrative  was  a letter  addressed  to  the  General  of  the  Bo- 
of  Jesus,  at  Rome,  by  Father  White. 


444 


’FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


they  inhabit  is  very  fertile,  but  is  entirely  covered  with 
woods,  having  no  open  plains.  . . . Some  one,  I hope,  will 
have  compassion  on  this  forsaken  people. 

“A  rumor  spread  among  the  sailors — started  by  certain 
shipwrecked  Frenchmen — that  an  animal  is  found  on  this 
island  in  the  forehead  of  which  is  a stone  of  extraordinary 
iustre,  like  a live  coal  or  burning  candle.  This  animal  Aey 
name  Carhunca.  Let  the  author  of  the  story  answer  for  its 
truth.” 

Of  the  island  of  Montserrat,  Father  White  says:  “The 
inhabitants  are  Irishmen  who  were  banished  by  the  English 
of  Virginia,  on  account  of  their  professing  the  Catholic 
Faith.”  ' 

St.  Christopher’s  was  the  last  of  the  West  India  islands 
at  which  the  Pilgrims  touched.  Here  they  remained  ten 
days.  “ We  stayed  ten  days,”  writes  the  venerable  Jesuit, 
“having  received  a friendly  invitation  from  the  English 
governor,  and  two  captains  who  were  Catholics.  The  presi- 
dent of  the  French  colony  in  the  same  island  received  me 
with  marked  courtesy. 

“All  the  rare  things  that  are  to  be  seen  at  Barbadoes,  I 
found  in  this  place  too;  and,  besides  these,  a sulphurous 
mountain^  not  far  from  the  governor’s  residence.  And 
what  you  would  admire  more,  the  virgin  plants  so  called 
because,  at  the  least  touch  of  the  finger,  it  immediately 
shrinks  and  falls  in;  though,  if  you  give  it  time,  it  revives, 
and  rises  up  again.  I was  especially  pleased  with  the  locust 


> Thus  in  the  seventeenth  century,  as  in  the  nineteenth,  the  “ Exile  of  Erin”  was  no  stranger 
in  the  New  World,  “ The  first  Irish  people  who  found  permanent  homes  in  America,”  writes 
Thomas  D'Arcy  McGee,  “ were  certain  Catholic  patriots  banished  by  OUver  Cromwell  to  Barba- 
does. ...  In  this  island,  as  in  the  neighboring  Montserrat,  the  Celtic  language  was  certainly 
spoken,  in  the  last  century;  and,  perhaps,  it  is  partly  attributable  to  this  early  Irish  colonization, 
that  Barbadoes  became  one  of  the  most  populous  islands  in  the  world.  At  the  end  of  the  seven- 
teenth century,  it  was  reported  to  contain  twenty  thousand  inhabitants.” — History  of  the  Irish 
Settlers  in  America. 

In  reference  to  fhe  foregoing  paragraph  about  the  Island  of  Montserrat,  the  venerable  Father 
Theband,  S.  J.,  says,  in  his  Irish  Race ; “ The  Celtic  language— that  sure  sign  of  Catholicity— was 
not  only  spoken  there  in  the  last  century,  but  is  still  to-day.  The  writer  himself  heard  last  year 
(1871),  from  two  young  American  seamen,  who  had  just  returned  from  a voyage  to  this  island,  that 
the  negro  porters  and  white  'longshoremen  who  load  and  unload  the  ships  in  the  harbor,  know 
scarcely  any  other  language  than  the  Irish,  so  that  often  the  crews  of  English  vessels  can  oo^ 
communicate  with  them  by  signs.”— P.  387,  nets 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


445 


tree,  which  is  supposed  to  have  afforded  sustenance  to 
St.  John  the  Baptist.  It  equals  the  elm  in  size,  and  is  such 
a favorite  with  the  bees,  that  they  very  gladly  build  their 
cells  in  it.  The  honey,  if  you  forget  that  it  is  wild,  does 
not  differ  in  color  or  flavor  from  the  purest  honey  I have 
tasted.  The  fruit — also  known  as  locust — consists  of  six 
beans  in  a pretty  hard  shell,  like  a pod,  and  contains  a meat 
which  is  soft  but  glutinous,  tasting  like  flour  mixed  with 
honey.  It  bears  four  or  flve  tolerably  large  seeds  of  a 
chestnut  color.  T carried  some  of  these  with  me  to  plant.” 
The  long  And  adventurous  voyage  was  now  drawing  to  its 
close. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE  CROWNING  LABORS  AND  ADVENTURES  OF  A GLORIOUf 

CAREER. 

Reception  of  the  Catholic  Pilgrims  in  Virginia — Chesa- 
peake Bay — The  Potomac — Armed  Natives — Taking 
possession  of  Maryland — A cross  in  the  wilderness — 
First  interview  with  an  Indian  Chief — Father  Altham 
preaches — 8t.  Mary's — Appearance^  manners^  habits^ 
weapons,  and  religion  of  the  Maryland  Indians — Soil 
and  animals  of  the  country  —Mission  labors — Difficul- 
ties— Conversions — Religion  reigns  among  the  Colo- 
nists— Buying  off  Catholic  Slaves — Father  White  at 
Kittamaquindi — What  a red  king  was — The  Apostle 
of  Maryland  converts  Chilomacon— Ceremony  qf  the 
chief's  baptism— Illness  of  Father  White— A Famine 
—A  singular  incident — Punishment  of  a backslider — 
A New  Englander  and  his  bigotry — Indian  tribes  con 
verted  along  the  Potomac — An  Indian  war — How  the 
Jesuits  made  a missionary  journey — A miracle — The 
clouds  of  misfortune  gather — End  of  Father  White's 
labors — Is  sent  to  England — His  last  years — Death 
and  character. 

Father  White  and  his  companions  now  approached  the 
termination  of  their  historic  voyage.  On  the  24th  of  Feb- 
ruary, the  Ark  and  the  Dove  neared  Point  Comfort.  Vir- 
ginia. The  Joyful  sight  of  land,  however,  was  somewhat 
clouded  by  the  fear  of  hostility  on  the  part  of  the  Virgin- 
ians, who  were  resolutely  opposed  to  Lord  Baltimore’s  un- 
dertaking; but  the  royal  letters  borne  by  the  newcomers 
secured  them  a favorable  reception  from  the  Governor.  Yet 
in  this  gentleman’s  hospitality,  it  seems,  there  was  a little 
446 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


447 


selfishness.  He  “hoped,”  says  the  Relatio,  “that  by  this 
kindness  towards  us  he  would  the  more  easily  recover  from 
the  royal  treasury  a large  sum  of  money  which  was  due 
him.” 

“After  being  kindly  treated  for  eight  or  nine  days,”  con- 
tinues the  Relatio,  “we  set  sail  on  the  3d  of  March,  and 
entering  the  Chesapeake  Bay,  we  turned  our  course  to  the 
north  to  reach  the  Potomac  river.  The  Chesapeake  Bay, 
ten  leagues  wide,  flows  gently  between  its  shores.  It  is 
four,  five,  and  six  fathoms  deep,  and  abounds  in  fish  when 
the  season  is  favorable.  You  could  scarcely  find  a more 
beautiful  body  of  water.  Yet  it  yields  the  palm  to  the 
Potomac*  river,  which  we  named  after  St.  Gregory.  ...  A 
larger  or  more  beautiful  river  I have  never  beheld.  The 
Thames  seems  a mere  rivulet  in  comparison  with  it.  It  is 
disfigured  by  no  swamps,  but  has  firm  land  on  each  side. 
Fine  groves  of  trees  appear,  not  choked  with  briers  or 
bushes  and  undergrowth,  but  growing  at  regular  distances, 
as  if  planted  by  the  hand  of  man.  You  could  drive  a four- 
horse  carriage  wherever  you  might  choose  through  the 
midst  of  the  trees. 

“Just  at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  we  observed  the  natives 
in  arms.  During  the  night  fires  blazed  through  the  whole 
country.  As  they  had  never  seen  such  a large  ship,  mes- 
sengers were  sent  in  all  directions  to  report  that  a canoe 
like  an  island  had  come  on,  with  as  many  men  as  there 
were  trees  in  the  woods ! 

“We  pushed  on,  however,  to  Herons’  Island,  so  called 
from  the  immense  number  of  these  birds.  The  first  island 
we  came  to  we  named  St.  Clement's.’  As  it  has  a sloping 


■ Potomac  s'Kn.fics  “place  of  the  burning  pine.” 

* •'  St.  Clement's.”  The  name  has  disappeared;  and  almost  the  whole  of  the  island,  as  it  seems,  . 
has  been  washed  away  by  the  river.  It  was  situated  at  the  month  of  the  bay,  which  ,8  now 
called  SI.  Clement'it  Bay.  All  that  is  left  of  it  is  a sandbank  of  about  ten  acres,  which  can 
hardly  be  cultivated.  It  has  kept  the  name  of  Heroru'  Island.  It  was  the  first  you  met  in  sailing 
between  those  islands  which  are  now  called  Blackstcfne  Islands;  at  that  time,  however,  they  were 
probably  called  Herons’  Islands.  A tradition  prevailing  among  the  people  of  the  neighborhood 
m the  year  1835  was,  that  they  had  seen  the  island  more  extensive  in  length  and  breadth,  but 
(hat  within  the  memory  of  the  older  inhabitants  it  had  been  gradually  washed  away  by  th* 
waters. — Adnotaiiones  Xotes  in  Belatio  Itineris. 


448 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


shore,  there  is  no  way  of  getting  to  it  except  by  wading. 
Here  the  women  who  had  left  the  ship,  to  do  the  washing, 
npset  the  boat  and  came  near  being  drowned.  They  also 
lost  a large  portion  of  my  linen — no  small  loss  in  this  part 
of  the  world. 

“On  the  25th  of  March,  the  Day  of  the  Annunciation  of 
the  Most  Holy  Virgin,  in  the  year  1634,  we  offered  in  this 
island'  the  sacrifice  of  the  Mass  for  the  first  time;  for  in 
this  region  of  the  globe  it  had  never  been  celebrated  before.’ 

“The  sacrifice  being  ended,  we  took  upon  our  shoulders 
the  great  cross  which  we  had  hewn  from  a tree;  and  going 
to  the  place  that  had  been  designated — the  Governor,  com- 
missioners, and  other  Catholics  participating  in  the  cere- 
mony— we  erected  it  as  a trophy  to  Christ  the  Saviour, 
while  the  Litany  of  the  Holy  Cross  was  chanted  humbly,  on 
our  bended  knees,  with  great  emotion  of  soul.” 

Here  was  a real  “cross  in  the  wilderness !”  Indeed,  there 


1 St  Clement's. 

> This  was  an  error;  but  Father  White  was  not  aware  that  nine  Spanish  Jesnits  had  conse- 
crated that  territory  with  their  blood  over  half  a century  before  his  arrival.  “ More  than  half 
a century  before  the  English  Catholics  landed  on  the  shores  of  the  Chesapeake,  the  soil  of  Mary- 
land was  bedewed  with  the  blood  of  martyrs.  Some  of  the  early  Spanish  navigators  explored 
this  pertion  of  our  country,  bringing  away  with  them  the  young  son  of  the  chieftain  of  a district 
known  by  the  name  of  Axacan.  Chesapeake  Bay  they  called  St.  Mary’s.  Finding  the  young 
Indian  possessed  of  rare  talents,  the  missionaries  adopted  him,  in  the  hope  that  he  would  one 
day  be  instrumental  in  spreading  the  Gospel  among  his  kindred.  He  was  sent  to  Spain,  re- 
ceived a good  education,  and  was  thoroughly  instructed  in  the  principles  of  the  Faith.  He  was 
baptized,  and  received  the  name  of  Luis.  After  a time  Don  Luis  asked  leave  to  return,  and 
use  his  influence  in  converting  his  tribe.  He  landed  in  Florida,  and  invited  some  of  the  mis- 
sionaries to  accompany  him  to  his  brother’s  dominions.  They  gladly  assented.  In  the  year  1570, 
Father  Segura,  S.  J.,  togethe  with  eight  Jesuit  Fathers  and  Don  Luis,  embarked  in  a small  craft, 
bidding  adieu  to  the  shores  of  Florida.  Landing  in  Chesapeake  Bay,  they  began  a long  and 
painful  march  towards  the  interior.  Months  passed.  But  they  bravely  pressed  on.  The  conduct 
of  Don  Luis,  however,  began  to  arouse  suspicion.  At  length,  he  stated  that  his  brother’s  village 
was  but  twelve  miles  distant  The  young  chieftain — their  only  guide — now  left  the  Jesuits,  tell- 
ing them  to  encamp  while  he  proceeded  alone,  in  order,  as  he  said,  to  prepare  his  tribe  to  give 
the  Fathers  a welcome  reception.  Days  passed,  hunger  pressed;  but  Don  Luis  appeared  not. 
Left  in  a trackless  wilderness,  without  any  protection  but  Heaven,  the  priests  consoled  them- 
selves by  prayer,  and  by  offering  np  the  holy  sacrifice  of  the  Mass  on  a rustic  altar.  After  an 
urgent  invitation  from  Father  Quiros,  the  faithless  young  savage  returned — as  a murderer!  Rais- 
ing a war-cry,  he  was  answered  by  the  tribe,  and  chief  and  warrior  rushed  on  the  unsuspecting 
missionaries,  and  butchered  them  without  mercy.  Of  all  this  brave  band,  one  alone  escaped  to 
tell  their  sad  fate — an  Indian  boy  educated  at  Havanna.  Such  was  the  first  attempt  to  plant  the 
Cross  in  Maryland.  But  the  blood  of  martyrs  is  never  shed  in  va,m."-~Popular  Historv  of  th» 
Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States,  p.  84-5. 

The  foregoing  occurred  sixty-four  years  before  the  venerable  Father  White  celebrated  his  flirt 
Mass  on  St.  Clement’s  Isle. 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.J. 


449 


IS  something  so  touching  and  beautiful  in  this  simple  narra- 
tiv-e,  that,  in  our  age  of  unbelief  and  materialism,  we  pause 
and  almost  wonder  if  we  are  reading  a dream  or  a reality. 
But  it  is  no  dream.  It  is  the  true  history  of  how  the  Cath- 
olic Pilgrim  Fathers  of  Maryland  first  took  possession  of 
our  shores.  They  were  men  proud  of  their  grand  and 
ancient  Faith,  and  nobly  preferred  an  altar  in  the  desert  to 
a coronet  at  the  court  of  apostate  England. 

The  chief  of  the  Pascataway  Indians  ivas  the  most  power- 
ful ruler  in  that  region,  and  had  many  sachems  and  tribes 
subject  to  him.  Leonard  Calvert,  the  Governor,  determined 
to  visit  this  lordly  savage,  and  secure  his  friendship.  Taking 
with  him  the  Dove,  he  set  out  with  a portion  of  his  men, 
accompanied  by  Father  Altham,  leaving  the  ship  at  anchor 
at  St.  Clement’s.  As  they  advanced  up  the  river  the  dusky 
inhabitants  fled  towards  the  interior.  At  length  the  pr  est  and 
the  Governor  reached  a village  on  the  Virginia  side,  named 
Potomac — after  the  river — and  governed  by  Archihu,  uncle 
of  the  king,  who  was  yet  a youth.  Father  Altham  preached 
to  the  people  and  their  chiefs.  They  listened  with  atten- 
tion, and  replied  to  him  through  his  interpreter.  The  good 
Father  told  them  that  the  pale  faces  had  neither  come  to 
make  war  upon  them  nor  to  do  them  any  wrong;  but  to 
instruct  them  in  Christianity,  to  make  them  acquainted 
with  the  arts  of  civilized  life,  and  to  live  with  them  like 
brothers. 

“You  are  welcome,”  replied  the  chief.  Father  Altham 
then  informed  him,  that,  as  he  had  not  time  to  make  a 
longer  discourse,  he  would  return  to  visit  him  again.  “It  is 
good,”  said  the  dusky  ruler,  “we  will  use  one  table.  My 
people  shall  hunt  for  my  brother,  and  all  things  shall  be  in 
common  between  us.”  Such  was  the  first  conference  be- 
tween a Catholic  priest  and  the  gentle  and  peaceful  Indians 
of  Maryland. 

From  this  place.  Father  Altham  and  Governor  Calvert 
went  to  Pascataway,  “where,”  says  the  Relatio,  “all  the 
inhabitants  flew  to  arms.  About  five  hundred,  equipped 
with  bows,  had  stationed  themselves  on  the  shore  with  their 


450 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


King.*  But  after  signals  of  peace  were  made,  the  King,  put 
ting  aside  all  apprehension,  came  on  board  the  pinnace ; 
and  when  he  heard  of  our  friendly  disposition  towards  the 
Indians,  he  gave  us  permission  to  dwell  wherever  we  pleased 
iu  his  dominions. 

“In  the  meantime,  while  Governor  Calvert  was  on  this 
<royage  with  the  King,  the  savages  at  St.  Clement’s  began 
to  grow  bolder,  and  mingled  more  freely  with  our  sentinels. 
For  we  kept  watch  by  day  and  night,  to  guard  from  sudden 
attacks  our  men  who  were  cutting  wood,  as  well  as  the 
vessel  which  we  were  building,  having  brought  with  us  the 
separate  planks  and  ribs. 

“ It  is  pleasant  to  hear  these  natives  admiring  everything, 
especially  wondering  where  in  the  world  a tree  had  grown 
arge  enough  to  be  carved  into  a ship  of  such  huge  size  ; for 
they  supposed  it  liad  been  cut  from  a single  trunk  of  a tree, 
like  an  Indian  canoe.  Our  cannon  filled  them  all  with  as- 
tonishment, as,  indeed,  they  were  not  a little  louder  than 
their  own  twanging  bows,  and  sounded  like  thunder.” 

The  idea  of  securing  a fitting  spot  to  begin  the  foundation 
of  his  colony  now  occupied  the  mind  of  Governor  Calvert. 
Such  a place  was  soon  found.  It  is,  wrote  the  Apostle  of 
Maryland,  “a  spot  so  charming  in  its  situation  that  Europe 
itself  can  scarcely  show  one  to  surpass  it.  Going  about 
twenty-seven  miles  from  St.  Clement’s,  we  sailed  into  the 
mouth  of  a river  on  the  north  side  of  the  Potomac,  which 
w'e  named  after  St.  George.  This  river — or  rather  arm  of 
the  sea — runs  from  south  to  north  about  twenty  miles  be- 
fore you  come  to  fresh  water.  At  its  mouth  are  two  har- 
bors capable  of  containing  three  hundred  ships  of  the 
largest  size.  One  of  these  we  consecrated  to  St.  George; 
the  other,  which  is  more  inland,  to  the  Most  Blessed  Virgin 
Mary. 


' “ Under  the  grant  of  the  Crown  to  his  brother,”  writes  McSherry,  he  (Governor  Calvert)  wa» 
jntitled  to  the  possession  of  the  soil,  according  to  the  law  of  nations  ; but  he  deemed  it  jnst  and 
irudent  to  purchase  the  right  of  the  Indians  to  their  country,  and  gave  them  some  English  cloth, 
»xes,  hoes,  and  knives,  in  return  for  which  they  granted  him  about  thirty  miles  of  territory 
vhich  he  called  ‘ Carolina  Augusta,’ afterwards  the  county  of  St.  Mary’s.” — Hittory  of  Marf 
a >rl,p.  38. 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


451 


“The  left  side  of  the  river  was  the  abode  of  Chief  Yaoco- 
mico.  We  landed  on  the  right-hand  side,  and  going  in 
about  a mile  from  the  shore,  we  laid  out  the  plan  of  a city, 
naming  it  Saint  Mary.  And,  in  order  to  avoid  every  ap- 
pearance of  injustice,  and  afford  no  opportunity  of  hostility, 
we  bought  from  the  King  thirty  miles  of  that  land,  deliver- 
ing in  exchange  axes,  hatchets,  rakes,  and  several  yards  of 
cloth. 

“The  natives,”  continues  the  keen  and  ever-observant 
Father  White,  “are  very  tall  and  well  proportioned.  Their 
skin  is  naturally  rather  dark,  and  they  make  it  uglier  by  stain- 
ing it.  This  they  generally  do  with  red  paint  mixed  with 
oil,  to  keep  off  the  mosquitoes,  thinking  more  of  their  own 
comfort  than  of  appearances.  They  also  disfigure  their 
countenances  with  colors,  painting  them  in  many  and  truly 
hideous  and  frightful  ways  ; either  a dark  blue  above  the 
nose,  and  red  below,  or  the  reverse.  And  as  they  live  almost 
to  extreme  old  age  without  having  beards,  they  counter- 
feit them  with  paint,  by  drawing  lines  of  various  colors  from 
the  extremities  of  the  lips  to  the  ears.  They  commonly 
have  black  hair,  which  they  carry  bound  in  a knot  to  the 
left  ear,  and  fasten  with  a band,  adding  some  ornament 
which  is  in  estimation  among  them.  On  their  foreheads 
some  of  them  wear  the  figure  of  a fish  made  of  copper. 
They  adorn  their  necks  with  glass  beads,  strung  on  thread 
like  necklaces ; though  these  beads  are  getting  to  be  less 
valued  among  them,  and  less  useful  for  trade. 

“For  the  most  part,  they  are  clothed  in  deerskins,  or 
some  similar  kind  of  covering,  which  hangs  down  behind 
like  a cloak.  They  wear  aprons  around  the  middle,  and 
leave  the  rest  of  the  body  naked.  The  boys  and  girls  go 
about  with  nothing  on  them.  The  soles  of  their  feet  are  as 
hard  as  horn,  and  they  tread  on  thorns  and  briars  without 
being  hurt. 

“The  weapons  of  the  Indians  are  bows  and  arrows  three 
feet  long,  tipped  with  stag’ s horn,  or  a white  flint  sharpened 
at  the  end.  They  shoot  these  with  such  skill  that  they  can 
stand  off  and  hit  a sparrow  in  the  middle;  and,  in  order  to 


452 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


become  expert  by  practice,  they  throw  a spear  in  the  air, 
and  then  send  an  arrow  from  the  bow-string  and  drive  it 
into  the  spear  before  it  falls.  But  since  they  do  not  string 
the  bow  very  tight,  they  cannot  hit  a mark  at  a great  dis- 
tance. By  means  of  these  weapons  they  live,  and  go  out 
every  day  through  the  fields  and  woods  to  hunt  squirrels, 
partridges,  turkeys,  and  wild  animals.  There  is  an  abun- 
dance of  all  these,  though  we  ourselves  do  not  yet  venture 
to  procure  food  by  hunting,  for  fear  of  ambushes. 

“The  Indians  live  in  houses  built  in  an  oblong  oval  shape. 
Light  is  admitted  into  these  through  the  roof,  by  a window 
a foot  and  a half  long;  this  also  serves  to  carry  off  the 
smoke,  for  they  kindle  the  fire  in  the  middle  of  the  floor 
and  sleep  around  it.  Their  kings,  however,  and  chief  men 
have  private  apartments,  as  it  were,  of  their  own,  and 
beds,  made  by  driving  four  posts  into  the  ground,  and  ar- 
ranging poles  above  them  horizontally. 

“One  of  these  cabins  has  fallen  to  me  and  my  associates, 
in  which  we  are  accomodated  well  enough  for  the  time,  un- 
til larger  dwellings  are  provided.  You  may  call  this  the 
-first  chapel  in  Maryland,,  though  it  is  fitted  up  much  more 
decen  tly  than  when  the  Indians  lived  in  it. 

“This  people  are  of  a frank  and  cheerful  disposition, 
and  understand  any  matter  correctly  when  it  is  stated  to 
them.  They  have  a keen  sense  of  taste  and  smell,  and  in 
sight,  too,  they  surpass  the  Europeans.  For  the  most  part, 
they  live  on  a kind  of  paste,  which  they  name  Pone,,  and 
Ominif  both  of  which  are  made  of  Indian  corn.  Some- 
times they  add  fish,  or  what  they  have  procured  by  hunting 
and  fowling.  They  are  especially  careful  to  refrain  from 
wine  and  warm  drinks,  and  are  not  easily  persuaded  to 
taste  them,  if  we  except  some  whom  the  English  have  cor- 
rupted with  their  own  vices. 

“With  respect  to  purity,  I confess  that  I have  not  yet 
observed,  in  man  or  woman,  any  act  which  even  savored  of 


^ The  reader  ivill  likely  recall  oar  word  hominy,  which  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  a borrowed 
Indian  term  that  was  ci%-ilized  and  granted  the  rights  and  privileges  of  a place  in  Webster’* 
"Unabridged  Dictionary.” 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


453 


levity;  yet  they  are  daily  with  us  and  among  us.  and  take 
pleasure  in  our  society.  They  run  to  us  of  their  own  ac^ 
cord  with  a cheerful  expression  on  their  faces,  and  offer  us 
what  they  have  taken  in  hunting  or  fishing.  Sometimes 
they  also  bring  us  food,  and  oysters  boiled  and  roasted; 
and  this  they  do  when  invited  in  a few  words  of  their  own 
language,  which  we  have  contrived  to  learn  by  means  of 
signs.  They  marry  several  wives,  yet  they  keep  inviolate 
their  conjugal  faith.  The  women  present  a sober,  modest 
appearance. 

“These  Indians  cherish  generous  feelings  towards  all, 
and  make  a return  for  whatever  kindness  you  may  have 
shown  them.  They  resolve  upon  nothing  rashly,  or  while 
infiuenced  by  a sudden  impulse  of  the  mind,  but  act  with 
deliberation.  AVhen,  at  any  time,  anything  of  importance 
is  proposed,  they  think  over  it  a while  in  silence;  then  they 
speak  briefly  for  or  against  it.  Of  their  purpose  they  are 
very  tenacious.  Surely  these  men,  if  once  imbued  with 
Christian  precepts — and  there  seems  to  be  nothing  op- 
poses this  except  our  ignorance  of  the  language  spoken  in 
these  parts — will  become  eminent  observers  of  virtue  and 
humanity.  They  are  possessed  with  a wonderful  longing 
for  civilized  intercourse  with  us,  and  for  European  gar- 
ments. And  they  would  long  ago  have  worn  clothing,  if 
they  had  not  been  prevented  by  the  avarice  of  the  mer- 
chants, who  do  not  exchange  their  cloth  for  anything  ex- 
cept beavers.  But  every  one  cannot  get  a beaver  by 
hunting.  God  forbid  that  we  should  imitate  the  avarice  of 
these  men! 

“On  account  of  our  ignorance  of  their  language,  it  does 
not  yet  appear  what  ideas  the  Indians  have  about  religion. 
We  do  not  put  much  confidence  in  the  Protestant  inter- 
preters; and  have  rather  hastily  learned  the  following: 

They  acknowledge  one  God  of  Heaven,  yet  they  pay  him 
no  outward  worship.  But  in  every  way  they  strive  to 
please  a certain  imaginary  spirit  which  they  call  ochre,  that 
he  may  not  hurt  them.  Corn  and  fire,  I learn,  they  worship 
as  gods  that  are  very  bountiful  to  the  human  race. 


454 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


“Some  of  our  party  report  that  they  saw  the  following 
ceremony  in  the  temple  at  Barchuxem:  On  a day  ap- 
pointed, all  the  men  and  women  of  every  age,  from  several 
districts,  gathered  together  around  a large  fire.  The 
younger  ones  stood  nearest  the  fire;  and  behind  them  stood 
those  who  were  older.  Then  they  threw  deer’s  fat  on  the 
fire,  and  lifting  up  their  hands  towards  heaven,  and  raising 
their  voices,  they  cried  out : ‘ Yaho!  ’ ‘ Yaho!  ’ 

“Room  being  made,  some  one  then  brings  forward  quite 
a large  bag.  In  it  are  a pipe,  and  a powder  called  ^potu.' 
The  pipe  is  such  a one  as  is  used  among  us  for  smoking  to- 
bacco, but  much  larger.  Around  the  fire  the  bag  is  carried, 
the  boys  and  girls  following  it,  and  singing  alternately,  with 
quite  pleasant  voices:  ‘Yaho!’  ‘Yaho!’  Having  com- 
pleted the  circuit,  the  pipe  is  taken  out  of  the  bag,  and  the 
powder  called  ‘ potu’  is  distributed  to  all  as  they  stand  near. 
This  is  then  lighted  in  the  pipe,  and  each  one,  drawing 
smoke,  blows  it  over  the  various  members  of  his  or  her 
body  and  thus  consecrates  them.  My  informants  were  not 
allowed  to  learn  anything  more,  except  that  the  Indians 
seem  to  have  some  knowledge  of  the  deluge  by  which  the 
world  was  destroyed  on  account  of  the  wickedness  of  man- 
kind. 

“We  have  been  here  only  one  month,  and  so  the  remain- 
ing particulars  must  be  kept  for  the  next  voyage.  But 
this  I may  add : The  land  seems  to  be  remarkably  fertile. 
In  passing  through  the  very  thick  woods,  we  tread,  at  every 
step,  on  strawberries,  vines,  sassafras,  acorns,  and  walnuts. 
The  soil  is  dark  and  not  hard,  to  the  depth  of  a foot,  and 
overlays  a rich  red  clay.  Everywhere  there  are  lofty 
trees,  except  where  the  land  has  been  cultivated  by  a few 
persons. 

“Numerous  springs  furnish  a supply  of  water.  No  ani- 
mals are  seen  except  deer,  beavers,  and  squirrels.  The 
squirrels  are  as  large  as  the  hares  of  Europe.  There  is  an 
infinite  number  of  birds  of  various  colors,  such  as  eagles, 
cranes,  geese,  ducks,  and  partridges.  From  these  facts  it 
is  inferred  that  the  country  is  not  without  such  things  as 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J 455 

contribute  to  the  prosperity  or  pleasure  of  those  who  in- 
habit it." 

We  must  now  turn  our  attention  to  the  missions,  and 
glance  at  the  holy  and  heroic  labors  of  the  Apostle  of  Mary 
land  and  his  companions.  Father  White  was  fifty  five 
years  of  age,  when  he  began  the  gigantic  task  of  toiling  for 
the  conversion  of  the  red  man.  But  nothing  daunted  that 
brave  soul.  With  all  the  ardor  of  youth  he  at  once  applied 
himself  to  the  study  of  the  Indian  languages,  in  which  he 
found  the  difficulties  much  increased  by  the  number  of  dia- 
lects used  among  the  various  tribes.  Nearly  every  village 
and  its  surrounding  district  had  a peculiar  dialect.  Of  the 
tribes  then  inhabiting  Maryland,  the  most  powerful  were 
the  Susquehannas,  who  were  subdivided  into  several 
smaller  tribes.  Among  the  latter  the  most  prominent  were 
the  Pascataways  and  the  Patuxents. 

The  gentle  dispositions  of  the  Indians  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  St.  Mary’s, encouraged  the  Jesuit  Fathers  to  en- 
tertain hopes  of  the  conversion  of  many  of  the  natives  to 
Christianity.  But,  in  the  second  year  of  the  colony,  ob- 
stacles to  their  pious  design  were  thrown  in  the  way,  which 
prevented  them  from  extending  their  visits  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  settlement.  It  was  in  the  early  part  of  the 
year  1635 — scarcely  twelve  months  after  the  arrival  of  the 
missionaries — that  the  infamous  Captain  Clayborne  suc- 
ceeded in  exciting  the  suspicions  of  the  Indians  against  the 
Maryland  colonists  generally,  and  prejudices  against  their 
religion  in  particular.  Apprehensive  of  hostilities  from  the 
natives,  the  colonists,  lay  and  clerical,  prudently  confined 
themselves  to  St.  Mary’ s until  the  good-will  of  the  Indians 
was  restored.  In  1635,  a third  priest  arrived  from  Europe. 

“On  account  of  the  very  many  difficulties,”  wrote  one  of 
the  Fathers,  during  this  year,  “that  present  themselves  in 
this  Mission,  which  has  been  lately  started,  there  has  been 


• ‘‘The  Maryland  tribes,  ’ writes  Dr.  J.  G.  Shea,  “consisted  of  several  branches  of  the  great 
Hnron-Iroqnois  fam‘'y,  and,  doubtless,  of  some  Algonqnins,  althongh  t is  not  easy  in  atl 
cases  to  decide  to  which  class  a tribe  is  to  oe  Tettned.''—BUtori/  of  the  CathcHie  Mitsiotxt  omont 
flU  Indian  Tribe*  of  the  United  States,  p.  486. 


456 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


thus  far  but  little  fruit  from  it,  especially  among  the  sav- 
ages, whose  language  is  slowly  acquired  by  our  country- 
men, and  can  hardly  be  written  at  all.  Employed  here  arc 
five  associates,  three  priests,  and  two  assistants,  who,  in  hope 
of  future  results,  endure  their  present  toils  with  great  cheer- 
fulness.” 

In  1636,  another  priest  was  added  to  the  small  band  of 
apostolic  laborers. 

Among  the  acts  of  the  General  Assembly  held  at  St.  Mary’s 
in  January,  1637,  is  the  following,  which  is  given  after  along 
list  of  names , ‘ 'After,  were  summoned  to  appeare — by  vertue 
of  writts  to  them  directed — Mr.  Thomas  Copley,  Mr,  Andrew 
White,  Mr.  John  Altham  of  St.  Mary’s  hundred.  Robert 
Clarke,  gent.,  appeared  for  them,  and  excused  their  absence 
by  reason  of  sickness.” 

The  reader  will,  doubtless,  be  surprised  to  see  the  Apostle 
of  Maryland  simply  styled  “Mr.  Andrew  White.”  But  he 
must  remember  that  this  is  the  nineteenth  century,  and  that 
England  no  longer  rules  by  barbarous  penal  laws.  The 
foregoing  was  written  in  the  seventeenth  century.  Then,  it 
would  have  been  very  far  from  safe  openly  to  recognize  a 
Catholic  priest  by  the  title  of  ‘ ‘ Reverend ; ’ ’ and  in  the  Mary- 
land state  records  we  find  a prudent  caution  in  this  respect, 
to  avoid  any  public  or  apparent  disregard  of  the  vile  code 
then  in  force  in  the  Mother  Country  against  Catholic  priests, 
and  particularly  the  Fathers  of  the  Society  of  Jesus. 

Dividing  his  time  between  the  settlers  and  the  Indians, 
Father  White  continued  his  unceasing  toils.  He  not  only 
mastered  the  Indian  language,  but  composed  a grammar, 
dictionary,  and  catechism  in  it.  God  blessed  his  labors  and 
those  of  his  colleagues.  Of  the  Protestants  in  the  colony, 
we  learn  that  many  returned  to  the  Faith  of  their  fathers. 

“Among  the  Protestants,”  writes  one  of  the  missionaries 
in  a letter,  “ nearly  all  who  have  come  from  England,  in 
this  year  1638,  and  many  others,  have  been  converted  to  the 
Faith,  together  with  four  servants,  whom  we  purchased  in 
Virginia,  and  five  mechanics  whom  we  hired  for  a month, 
and  have  in  the  meantime  won  to  God.  Not  long  after- 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J 45-7 

wards,  one  of  these,  after  being  duly  prepared  for  death, 
by  receiving  the  sacraments,  departed  this  life. 

“A  certain  man,”  continues  the  same  writer,  “entirely 
unknown  to  us,  but  a zealous  disciple  of  the  Protestant  re- 
ligion, was  staying  with  a friend  who  was  still  more  zealous; 
and  having  been  bitten  by  one  of  the  snakes  which  abound 
in  these  parts,  was  expecting  immediate  death.  One  of 
our  Fathers,  finding  this  out,  took  with  him  a surgeon,  and 
hurried  to  the  sick  man — who,  it  was  reported,  had  already 
lost  his  senses — with  the  intention  of  ministering  to  his 
soul  in  any  way  that  he  could.  But  the  host  divining  his 
intention,  tried  to  thwart  his  pious  efforts.  The  priest, 
however,  as  he  could  find  no  other  opportunity,  determined 
to  stay  all  night  with  the  sick  man.  But  this  the  host  also 
prevented;  and  lest  the  Father  should  be  admitted  at  night, 
he  appointed  a guard  to  sleep  on  a bed  laid  across  the  door 
of  the  chamber  occupied  by  his  sick  friend.  Neverthe- 
less, the  priest  kept  on  the  watch  for  every  opportunity  of 
approach.  Going  at  midnight — when  he  supposed  the 
guard  would  be  especially  overcome  by  sleep — he  contrived, 
without  disturbing  him,  to  pass  in  to  the  sick  man;  and  at 
the  desire  of  the  latter  he  was  received  into  the  Catholic 
Church.  Although,  under  the  circumstances,  it  was  impos- 
sible that  the  sick  man  should  be  taught  much,  or  be  firmly 
established  in  his  belief,  yet,  when — contrary  to  all  expec- 
tation— he  had  been  cured  by  our  surgeon,  the  grace  of  God 
prevailed  with  him.  He  chose  rather  to  be  put  out  of  his 
friend’s  house  than  to  retract  what  he  had  done;  indeed, 
he  even  came  to  us  of  his  own  accord,  and  happily  com- 
pleted the  work  he  had  begun. 

“Another  man,  who  was  of  noble  birth,  had  been  reduced 
to  such  poverty  by  his  own  unrestrained  licentiousness,  that 
he  sold  himself  into  this  colony.  Here,  when  he  had  been 
recalled  by  one  of  us  to  the  right  Faith  and  the  fruit  of 
good  living,  he  always  anxiously  doubted  whether  he  had 
entered  on  the  safe  road.  On  one  occasion,  when  he  had 
entrusted  himself  to  the  sea,  in  a small  skiff,  and  a fright- 
ful storm  arose,  such  as  he  had  never  seen — though  he  had 


458 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


often  met  with  storms  at  sea — and  certain  shipwreck  stared 
him  in  the  face,  he  earnestly  prayed  to  Grod  that  in  confir- 
mation of  the  faith  he  had  lately  received — if  it  were  really 
true — He  would  ward  off  the  impending  danger.  The  Al- 
mighty heard  his  prayer.  The  storm  turned  in  another 
direction ; and  unshaken  conviction  stilled  his  wavering 
mind. 

‘‘Not  long  afterwards  this  man  was  brought  to  the  last 
extremity  by  a severe  disease.  He  received  all  the  sacra- 
ments about  an  hour  before  his  death,  and  asked  his  Catho- 
lic attendant  to  pray  for  him.  , . . Since  his  burial  a very 
bright  light  has  often  been  seen  at  night  around  his  tomb, 
even  by  Protestants.” 

It  appears  the  spiritual  state  of  the  Maryland  colony  at  this 
period  was  admirable.  “As  for  the  Catholics,”  observes  the 
foregoing  writer,  “the  attendance  on  the  sacraments  here  is 
so  large,  that  it  is  not  greater  among  the  Europeans,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  number  of  Catholics.  The  more  ignorant 
have  been  catechised,  and  catechetical  lectures  have  been  de- 
livered for  the  more  advanced  every  Sunday.  On  feast-days 
sermons  have  rarely  been  neglected.  The  sick  and  dying, 
who  have  been  very  numerous  this  year,  and  who  dwelt  far 
apart,  we  have  assisted  in  every  way,  so  that  not  even  a 
single  one  has  died  without  the  sacraments.  Very  many  we 
have  buried,  and  we  have  baptized  various  persons.  And, 
although  there  are  not  wanting  frequent  causes  of  dissen- 
sion, yet  none  of  any  importance  has  arisen  here  in  the  last 
nine  months  which  we  have  not  immediately  allayed.  By 
the  blessing  of  God  we  have  this  consolation — that  no  vices 
spring  up  among  the  new  Catholics,  although  settlements  of 
this  kind  are  not  usually  supplied  from  the  best  class  of 
men. 

“In  Virginia  we  bought  off  two  Catholics,  who  had  sold 
themselves  into  bondage:  nor  was  the  money  ill-spent,  for 
both  showed  themselves  good  Christians.'  One,  indeed. 


1 “ This  circumstance,”  writes  Dr.  R.  H.  Clarke,  " would  seem  to  prove  an  important  fact  in  th« 
history  of  the  country,  i.  «,  that  slavery  existed  in  Virginia  befor*  the  introduction  of  the 
African.” — Memoir  of  Father  Andrew  White. 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


459 


?rnrpassps  the  ordinary  standard.  Some  others  have  per- 
formed the  same  duty  of  charity,  buying  thence  Catholic 
servants,  who  are  very  numerous  in  that  country.  There, 
every  year,  very  many  sell  themselves  into  bondage;  and 
living  among  men  of  the  worst  example,  and  being  destitute 
of  all  spiritual  aid,  they  commonly  make  shipwreck  of  their 
souls.” 

In  the  year  1639,  we  find  Father  White  cheerfully  toiling 
away  at  Kittamaquindi, ' an  Indian  town  distant  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  miles  from  St.  Mary’s.  “There  are,” 
wrote  one  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers  in  that  year,  “in  this  mis- 
sion four  priests  and  one  coad.jutor.  All  are  in  places  far 
distant — thus  doubtless  as  they  expect  to  obtain  an  earliei 
acquaintance  with  the  savage  language,  and  propagate  more 
widely  the  sacred  Faith  of  the  Gospel.  Father  John  Brock, 
the  Superior,  with  a coadjutor  brother,  remains  on  the 
plantation.  Metepawien— which  was  given  us  by  Maquaco- 
men,  the  chief  of  Patuxent— is  a certain  storehouse  of  this 
mission,  whence  most  of  our  bodily  supplies  are  obtained. 
Father  Philip  Fisher  lives  in  the  principal  town  of  the 
colony,  to  which  the  name  of  St.  Mary’s  is  given.  Father 
John  Gravener  lives  on  Kent  Island,  sixty  miles  distant. 
Father  Andrew  White  is  still  further  distant— one  hundred 
and  twenty  miles — at  Kittamaquindi,  the  capital  of  Pascato- 
way.  Since  June,  1639,  he  has  resided  in  the  wigwam  of  the 
king  himself.  He  is  called  Tayac.”" 

Why  the  venerable  Father  White  went  co  Kittamaquindi 
is  thus  explained,  at  length,  in  the  letter  .just  quoted: 
“He  had  bestowed  much  time  and  labor  for  the  conversion 
of  the  king  of  Patuxent,  which,  indeed,  was  expected  by 
us  all,  both  on  account  of  the  recollection  of  kindness  re- 
ceived— for,  as  we  have  stated,  he  gave  a farm  to  the  So- 
ciety— and  because  he  was  said  to  be  very  powerful  among 

> Eittamaqnindi  was  situated,  it  seems,  not  f.'  r from  the  site  of  ihe  city  of  Washington,  D.  C. 
Of  this  ancient  Kittamaquindi,  Dr.  R.  H.  Clarke  observes  that  it  is  supposed  ‘ to  be  the  site  o( 
Ihe  present  village  of  Piscataway.” 

’ Tayac,  or  King,  was  his  title  rather  then  his  name,  which  was  Chllomacon.  See  sketch  <rf 
CnUomacon,  or  Charles  the  Indian  King,  in  the  Popular  BUtory  of  tKt  CathMc  Church  w»  tJU 
VniUd  StaUs,  p.  90. 


460 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


the  barbarians,  on  account  of  his  reputation  for  wisdom  and 
influence.  Some  of  the  people  of  this  king  had  connected 
themselves  with  the  fold  of  Christ;  and  he  himself  ap- 
peared abundantly  instructed  in  the  first  principles  of  the 
Faith,  when  lo!  unhappy  man,  he  first  procrastinates,  then 
by  degrees  began  to  grow  indifferent,  and  lastly,  in  an  open 
manner,  to  break  off  altogether  from  the  design  he  had 
commenced.  Nor  was  this  a]\  He  gave  indications — too 
clear  to  be  misunderstood — that  his  mind  was  entirely 
alienated  from  the  whole  colony.  Then  Governor  Calvert, 
after  prudently  sounding  the  matter,  determined,  by  the  ad- 
vice of  his  friends,  that  the  Father  should  be  recalled  from 
the  hospitality  of  the  king,  lest  unexpectedly  the  barba- 
rian should  give  some  example  of  his  perfidy  and  cruelty 
against  an  innocent  man;  or,  indeed,  lest  this  hostage,  as  it 
were,  being  left  with  the  king,  he  himself  might  be  hin- 
dered from  being  able  to  revenge  injuries,  if  at  any  time  the 
Patuxent  ruler  should  discover  himself  an  enemy. 

‘ ‘When  rulers  and  kings  are  spoken  of,  let  no  one  form  in 
his  mind  an  august  idea  of  men,  such  as  of  the  different 
princes  in  Europe.  These  Indian  kings,  though  they  have 
the  most  absolute  power  of  life  and  death  over  their  people, 
and  in  certain  prerogatives  of  honor  and  wealth  excel  others, 
nevertheless,  in  personal  appearances  they  are  scarcely  any- 
thing removed  from  the  multitude.  The  only  peculiarity 
by  which  you  can  distinguish  a chief  from  the  common  peo- 
ple, is  some  badge.  Sometimes  it  is  a collar  made  of  a rude 
jewel,  or  a belt,  or  oftener  a cloak  ornamented  with  shellc 
in  circular  rows.  The  dominions  of  these  are  commonly 
circumscribed  by  the  narrow  confines  of  a single  village  and 
the  surrounding  country.  Tayac,  however,  rules  over  a 
much  more  extensive  region,  stretching  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty  miles.  Other  inferior  chieftains  are  also  subject 
to  him 

'‘To  Tayac,  Father  White  betook  himself,  and  being 
treated  very  kindly  at  the  first  interview,  so  attached  the 
king  to  him,  that  he  was  afterwards  held  by  him  in  the 
greatest  love  and  veneration.  With  the  Father  he  shared 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


40i 


the  hospitality  of  his  own  residence.  Nor  was  the  queen 
inferior  to  her  husband  in  benevolence  to  their  guest.  With 
no  less  care  than  labor,  she  prepared  the  meals  with  her 
own  hands. 

“The  cause  of  this  remarkable  affection  for  the  Father,  is 
to  be  referred  to  two  dreams — unless  you  deem  it  proper 
to  honor  them  with  another  name — which  he  had  some  time 
previously.  One  of  the  dreams  appeared  to  the  mind  of 
Uwanno,  Tayac’s  brother,  who  reigned  before  him,  and 
whom  he  slew.  In  his  sleep  he  seemed  to  see  Father  White 
and  Father  Gravener  before  him,  and  moreover  to  hear  a 
voice  saying : ‘ These  are  the  men  who  from  their  souls 
lore  thee  and  all  thy  tribe.  With  them  they  bring  those 
blessings  by  which.,  if  thou  desirest,  thou  canst  be 
happy  ! ’ 

‘ ‘ Hence  so  lively  an  impression  of  these  unknown  men 
remained  in  his  mind  that  even  at  the  first  sight  he  recog- 
nized them  when  coming  to  him,  and  afterwards  embraced 
them  with  remarkable  affection.  He  was  also  accustomed 
to  call  Father  White  his  parent;  and  was  very  desirous  to 
commit  the  care  and  instruction  of  his  sons  to  him  for  seven 
years.  The  Indians  are  exceedingly  fond  of  their  children, 
and  seldom  let  them  go  from  their  embraces. 

“The  other  dream,  which  he  is  often  accustomed  to  relate, 
occurred  to  Tayac  in  his  sleep.  He  dreamed  that  his  de- 
ceased father  appeared  before  him,  accompanied  by  a god 
of  a black  color,  whom  he  worshiped.  This  god  besought 
Tayac  not  to  desert  him.  At  a short  distance  there  also 
appeared  a very  hideous  demon,  with  a certain  man  named 
Snow,  a most  obstinate  heretic  from  England — and,  at 
length,  in  another  direction  appeared  Governor  Calvert  and 
Father  White,  the  latter  accompanied  by  a god  of  in- 
describable beauty,  who  excelled  the  unstained  snow  in  white- 
ness, and  seemed  gently  to  beckon  to  the  king  to  approach 
him.  From  that  time  Tayac  treated  both  the  Governor  and 
Father  White  with  the  greatest  affection.” 

Soon  after  another  event  happened  which  hastened  the 
conversion  of  the  chief.  He  was  seized  with  a dangerous 


462 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE.  S.  J. 


illness  In  vain  did  forty  medicine  men  exhaust  their  in- 
genuity, their  charms,  and  their  incantations  upon  the  pros- 
trated Tayac  Ordering  them  from  his  presence,  he  im- 
plored Father  White  to  aid  him.  The  venerable  Jesuit's 
knowledge  of  medicine  served  him  well.  He  bled  the  dusky 
chieftain,  administered  what  he  considered  proper,  and 
soon  the  patient  arose  from  his  sick  hammock.  He  asked 
to  be  baptized.  The  missionary  kindly  told  him  that  it 
was  necessary  to  be  well  instructed  first.  The  eagerness  of 
this  lordly  son  of  the  forest  to  master  the  truths  of  Chris- 
tianity was  indeed  truly  admirable.  Himself,  his  wife,  and 
his  family  daily  listened  to  the  instructions  of  the  aged  mis- 
sionary. Besides,  he  no  longer  clothed  himself  in  skins,  but 
assumed  the  dress  of  the  whites. 

“The  king,*'  observes  the  letter  of  1639,  “has  exchanged 
the  skins  with  which  he  was  heretofore  clothed  for  gar- 
ments made  in  our  fashion.  He  also  makes  a little  endeavor 
to  learn  our  language.  ...  He  abstains  from  meat  on  the 
days  on  which  it  is  forbidden  by  the  Christian  laws;  and 
men  that  are  heretics  and  do  otherwise,  he  thinks  ought  to 
be  called  bad  Christians.  He  is  greatly  delighted  with  spir- 
itual conversation,  and,  indeed,  seems  to  esteem  earthly 
wealth  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  treasures  of 
Heaven,  as  he  told  Governor  Calvert.  The  latter  was  ex- 
plaining to  him  what  great  advantages  could  be  enjoyed 
from  the  English  by  a mutual  exchange  of  wares,  when  the 
chief  remarked — ‘In  truth,  I consider  these  trifling,  wlien 
compared  with  this  one  advantage,  that  through  these  mis- 
sionaries I have  arrived  at  the  knowledge  of  the  one  true 
God.  To  me  there  is  nothing  among  you  greater  than  this  ; 
nor  ought  there  to  be  anything  greater.’  ” 

Tayac’ s anxiety  for  the  conversion  of  his  whole  tribe 
was  only  equaled  by  his  desire  to  be  received  into  the 
Church.  Convinced  himself,  he  wished  to  make  the  truth 
known  to  others.  The  red  ruler  assembled  his  chiefs  and 


■ The  annual  letter  of  1639  says  Father  White  administered  *•  a certain  powder  of  known  effi- 
cacy. mixed  ^vith  holy  water,  and  took  care  the  day  after,  with  the  assistance  of  the  boy  whom 
he  had  with  him,  to  open  one  of  his  (Tayac’s)  veins  for  blood-letting.”— p.  66-7. 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


463 


people,  and  in  an  eloquent  appeal  told  them  that  childish 
superstition  had  reigned  too  long  in  the  wigwams  of  the 
Pascatoways.  There  was  but  one  God,  and  He  alone  was 
worthy  of  the  homage  of  brave  men.  He  was  the  Creator 
of  all  things.  He  was  the  Great  Spirit  worshiped  by  tbe 
black  gowns.  The  stones  and  the  objects  adored  by  the  In- 
dians were  but  the  humble  works  of  His  hands.  And  to 
show  his  contempt  for  their  former  idols,  Tayac  took  one 
and  tossed  it  with  his  foot.  The  warriors  applauded  the 
language  and  bold  action  of  their  chief,  and  henceforth 
Christianity  made  a rapid  conquest  of  this  tribe.  Thus  did 
the  holy  words  of  Father  White  fall  upon  good  ground,  and 
bring  forth  a hundred-fold. 

About  this  time,  Tayac  accepted  Father  White’s  invita- 
i’on  to  visit  the  town  of  St.  Mary’s,  and  was  delighted  with 
the  scenes  of  peace,  prosperity,  and  happiness  which  there 
met  his  eyes. ' This  lord  of  the  forest  now  eagerly  begged 
to  be  baptized,  and  at  length  a day  was  fixed. 

The  ceremony  took  place  on  the  5th  of  July,  1604,  at  his 
rude  capital,  Kittamaquindi,  in  a chapel  built  of  bark  for 

• Old  St.  Mary's  and  its  scenes  of  happiness  have  long  ago  departed.  “ The  visitor  to  the  site 
of  this  old  city,”  says  a late  writer,  “ is  surprised— pained — to  find  not  one  stone  left  upon  an- 
other of  that  early  settlement.  The  only  houses  now  standing  on  the  high  plain,  where  once  stood 
that  city,  are  a few  dwellings  belonging  to  the  farmer  who  owns  most  of  the  historic  site,  a ham- 
like  church  belonging  to  the  Episcopalians,  said  to  have  been  built  of  the  mins  of  the  old  state- 
house,  and  a large  brick  building  that  stands  dreary  and  treeless.  The  latter  is  a .“seminary  for 
yonng  ladies  (not  a Catholic  one) — the  monnment  erected  by  the  Maryland  Legislature  to  com- 
memorate the  landing  of  the  first  colonists. 

“ The  uninWting  church  is  in  a yard  full  of  old  graves,  shaded  by  clumps  of  hollies  and  gloomy 
cedars.  A few  years  ago  the  venerable  old  mulberry  tree  said  to  have  been  planted  by  Leonard 
Calvert’s  own  hands,  and  popularly  known  as  Lord  Baltimore's  tree,  still  put  forth  a few  branches, 
but  perhaps  it  is  no  longer  standing.  There  is  a tradition  that  Leonard  Calvert  was  buried  there, 
but  the  precise  spot  is  unknomi. 

“Passing  through  the  grassy  graveyard,  and  descending  a steep  bank,  the  visitor  comes  to  a 
narrow  line  of  sand— a miniature  beach — on  the  shore  of  St.  Mary’s  river,  the  place  where  the 
colony  landed.  A quarter  of  a mile  south  of  the  seminary  is  the  field  where  stood  the  church  the 
colonists  hastened  to  build.  It  is  hard  to  think  it  consecrated  ground,  where  holy  rites  were  once 
performed. 

“ There  are  some  traces  of  the  Lord  Proprietary’s  residence.  The  old  cellar  is  nearly  filled 
with  rubbish.  Close  by  is  a stream  of  delicious  water,  bubbling  up  from  the  rocks  and  running 
off  in  a streamlet  over  tufts  of  the  thickest  and  greenest  moss. 

’■  With  all  its  beauty,  the  plain  of  St.  Mary’s  is  full  of  melancholy.  One  seems  to  hear  th« 
wail  of  the  forsaken  lares  whose  altars  have  so  long  been  leveled; 

“ ‘ In  consecrated  Earth, 

.\nd  on  the  holy  hearth. 

The  lares  and  lemures  moan  with  midnight  plaint.’  ” 

—Oood  Things  for  Catholic  Readers,  p.  276. 


464 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


the  occasion.  “The  Governor,”  says  the  letter  of  1640, 
“was  present  at  the  ceremony,  together  with  his  Secretary 
and  many  others;  nor  was  anything  wanting  in  display 
which  our  means  could  supply.” 

The  venerable  White,  the  friend  and  instructor  of  the 
red  liing,  oflBciated.  Tayac,  his  queen,  their  little  son,  and 
several  of  the  chief  men  of  the  tribe,  were  solemnly  admit- 
ted into  the  Catholic  Church  by  the  regenerating  waters  of 
Baptism.  The  converted  chief  assumed  the  name  of  Charles, 
in  honor  of  the  English  sovereign.  His  wife  took  the  name 
of  Mary.  The  other  converts  also  received  Christian 
names. 

“In  the  afternoon,”  says  the  letter  just  quoted,  “the 
king  and  queen  were  united  in  Matrimony  in  the  Christian 
manner;  then  the  great  holy  cross  was  erected,  in  carrying 
which  to  its  destined  place,  the  king,  governor,  secretary, 
and  others,  lent  their  hands  and  shoulders.  Two  of  us, 
walking  before  them,  at  the  same  time  chanted  the  Litany 
of  the  Blessed  Virgin.” 

What  beauty  and  virtue  and  religion  mingle  in  this 
happy  scene,  described  by  a venerable  hand  over  two  hun- 
dred years  ago!  In  which  of  the  other  English  colonies  of 
America  can  we  find  anything  similar?  Among  them  all, 
Catholic  Maryland  alone  can  present  such  a shining  spec- 
tacle, such  an  historical  thing  of  beauty  lighting  up  the 
gloom  of  the  past! 

Shortly  after  the  foregoing  event,  Father  White  was 
prostrated  by  a severe  illness.  The  great  old  priest  in  per- 
forming the  ceremonies  of  the  sacred  rite  of  Baptism — 
which  were  somewhat  long — contracted  a fever,  and  again 
suffered  a relapse.  Many  months  passed  away  before  he 
was  restored  to  good  health.  He  was  not  idle,  however, 
but  revised  and  compiled  the  grammar,  dictionary,  and  cate- 
chism in  the  language  of  his  dusky  flock,  in  order  to  aid  his 
successor  in  the  mission. 

In  the  winter  of  1640-41,  the  charity  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers 
and  the  Catholic  colonists  was  doubly  taxed.  Gaunt 
famine  stalked  the  forests  of  Maryland,  for  a great  drought 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE.  S.  J. 


465 


had  marked  the  past  summer.  The  body  of  the  poor  In- 
dian was  now  as  sadly  in  need  of  nourishment  as  his  soul. 
Wails  came  from  the  wigwams,  where  formerly  echoed 
naught  save  the  sounds  of  joy  and  laughter.  -‘That  we 
might  not  appear  to  neglect  their  (the  Indians’)  bodies,” 
writes  one  of  the  missionaries,  “for  the  care  of  whose  soals 
we  had  made  so  great  a voyage,  though  corn  was  sold  at  a 
very  high  price,  nevertheless,  we  considered  it  necessary  to 
relieve  their  want  of  bread  by  assisting  them.  Amid  these 
cares.  ...  we  passed  the  greater  part  of  the  winter.” 

“The  Catholics  who  live  in  the  colony,”  continues  the 
same  writer,  “are  not  inferior  in  piety  to  those  who  live  in 
other  countries;  but  in  urbanity  of  manners,  according  to  the 
judgment  of  those  who  have  visited  the  other  colonies,  are 
considered  far  superior  to  them.  Everywhere  the  hope  of 
harvest  has  dawned;  and  while  each  one  of  us  is  anxious 
even  unto  death  to  help  in  the  good  work,  various  things 
happen  worthy  of  recital.  Two  of  the  most  prominent  shall 
be  stated  here,  in  one  of  which  the  Divine  mercy  was  mani- 
fest, in  the  other  the  Divine  justice. 

“On  the  day  upon  which  a certain  man  was  about  to  ab- 
jure heresy,  and  to  expiate  the  sins  of  his  past  life  by  con- 
fession, a fire  arose  in  the  interior  of  his  house,  and  the 
flame,  running  up  the  door-post,  burst  out  at  the  top. 
When  he  perceived  the  danger — for  he  was  not  far  distant — 
he  suddenly  called  to  a neighbor,  but  could  get  no  assist- 
ance whatever.  He  then  ran  to  another,  but  could  find  only 
two  who  would  go  with  him.  And  all  this  time  the  fire  was 
burning  a house  of  dry  logs.  It  was  put  out,  however, 
before  any  serious  injury  had  happened.  Some  feared  lest, 
by  this  unexpected  occurrence,  the  man  might  be  deterred 
from  conversion.  But  it  happened  far  otherwise.  From 
the  slight  damage  done  to  his  house  he  drew  the  conclusion 
that  God  was  kind  to  him,  and  approved  his  design  by  a 
manifest  token.  Wherefore,  uniting  a great  reformation  in 
morals  with  the  faith  he  professed,  he  now  sheds  abroad  the 
sweet  odor  of  a good  example  upon  all  who  are  acquainted 
with  him. 


466 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


“A  certain  one,  when  he  had  felt  some  internal  drawings 
of  the  faith  of  God,  had  desired  prayer-beads  for  himself, 
but  afterwards,  having  changed  his  mind,  he  was  accustomed 
to  smoke  them  in  his  pipe  with  tobacco,  after  they  had  been 
ground  to  powder,  often  boasting  that  he  had  eaten  up  his 
Ave  Marias;  for  so  he  called  the  beads  by  the  telling  of 
which  the  angelical  salutation  is  recited.  But  the  Divine 
vengeance  did  not  let  the  wicked  crime  go  unpunished;  for 
scarcely  a year  having  passed,  on  the  returning  eve  of  the 
day  on  which  he  had  abandoned  his  purpose  of  embracing 
the  Catholic  Faith,  a more  sacrilegious  playfulness  possessed 
him.  This  was  even  noticed  by  his  companions.  In  the 
afternoon,  when  he  had  betaken  himself  to  the  river  for  the 
purpose  of  swimming,  scarcely  had  he  touched  the  water, 
when  a huge  fish  having  seized  the  wicked  man,  before  he 
could  retreat  to  the  bank,  tore  away,  at  a bite,  a large  por- 
tion of  his  thigh,  by  the  pain  of  which  most  merited  lacera- 
tion the  unhappy  wretch  was  hurried  away  from  the  living — 
the  Divine  justice  bringing  it  about  that  he,  who  a little 
while  before  boasted  that  he  had  eaten  up  his  Ave  Maria 
heads,,  should  see  his  own  flesh  devoured,  even  while  he 
was  yet  living.” 

In  1642,  we  find  Father  White  again  laboring  among  the 
Pascatoway  Indians.  Like  Moses  of  old,  it  appears,  age 
had  neither  dimmed  his  sight  nor  diminished  his  vigor. 
But  he  was  not  without  his  troubles;  and,  of  course,  we 
must  be  pardoned  if  we  introduce  a rather  quaint  and  curi- 
ous quotation  from  the  annual  letter  of  1642.  “Father 
White,”  says  the  writer,  “ suffered  no  little  inconvenience 
from  a hard-hearted  and  troublesome  captain  of  New  Eng- 
land, whom  he  had  engaged  for  the  purpose  of  taking  him 
and  his  effects,  and  from  whom  he  was  in  fear  a little  while 
after,  not  without  cause,  that  he  would  be  cast  either  into 
the  sea,  or  be  carried  with  his  property  to  New  England, 
which  is  full  of  Puritan  Calvinists — that  is,  of  all  Calvin- 
ist heresy.  But  silently  committing  the  thing  to  God,  at 
length  in  safety  he  reached  Potomac,  in  which  harbor, 
when  they  had  cast  anchor,  the  ship  stuck  so  fast,  bound 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


467 


by  a great  quantity  of  ice,  that  for  the  space  of  seventeen 
days  it  could  not  be  moved.  Walking  on  the  ice,  as  if  on 
the  land,  the  Father  departed  for  the  town.’  When  the  ice 
was  broken  up,  the  ship,  driven  and  jammed  by  the  force 
and  violence  of  the  ice,  sunk,  the  cargo  being  in  a great 
measure  recovered. 

“By  this  misfortune  Father  White  was  detained  longer 
on  his  visit,  namely,  seven  weeks;  for  he  found  it  necessary 
to  bring  another  ship  from  St.  Mary’s.  But  the  spiritual 
advantage  of  souls  readily  compensated  for  that  delay;  foo: 
during  that  time  was  added  to  the  Church  the  ruler  of  that 
little  village,  with  the  other  principal  men  of  its  inhabitants, 
who  received  the  Faith  of  Christ  and  Baptism.  Besides 
these,  also  another,  together  with  many  of  his  friends;  a 
third  likewise,  with  his  wife,  his  son,  and  a friend;  a fourth, 
in  like  manner,  with  another  of  no  ignoble  standing  among 
his  tribe.  By  their  example,  the  people  are  prepared  to  re- 
ceive the  Faith,  whenever  we  will  have  leisure  to  instruct 
them  by  catechism.” 

“Not  long  after,”  continues  the  same  letter,  “the  young 
princess — as  they  call  her  at  Pascatoway — was  baptized  in 
the  town  of  St.  Mary’s,  and  is  being  educated  there.  She 
is  now  a proficient  in  the  English  language.” 

At  this  time  an  Indian  war  broke  out,  and  the  Susque- 
hannas  and  other  tribes  poured  down  on  Maryland  and  its 
allies.  The  hostile  savages  attacked  a settlement,  mas- 
sacred the  people,  and  carried  off  the  spoil.  Pascatoway 
was  also  in  peril,  as  it  was  constantly  exposed  to  attacks 
from  the  enemy.  The  mission  was  removed  to  Potopaco, 
where  nearly  the  whole  tribe  embraced  the  Faith.  At  this 
time  Father  White  and  the  other  missionaries  made  several 
excursions  up  the  Patuxent  river,  and  in  various  parts,  this 
being  the  safest  and  best  means,  on  account  of  the  war. 
Those  missionary  journeys  are  thus  described  by  one  of 
themselves: 

“We  sail  in  an  open  boat — the  Father,  an  interpreter,  and 


2 Potomac  town. 


468 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


servant.  In  a calm  or  adverse  wind,  two  row  and  the  third 
steers  the  boat.  We  carry  a basket  of  bread,  cheese,  but- 
ter, dried  roasted  ears  of  corn,  beans  and  some  meal,  and  a 
chest  containing  the  sacerdotal  vestments,  the  slab  or  altar 
for  Mass,  the  wine  used  in  the  holy  sacrifice,  and  blessed 
baptismal  water.  In  another  chest  we  carry  knives,  hoes, 
little  bells,  fishing-hooks,  needles,  thread,  and  other  trifles, 
for  presents  to  the  Indians.  We  take  two  mats — a small 
one  to  shelter  us  from  the  sun,  and  a larger  one  to  protect 
us  from  the  rain.  The  servant  carries  implements  for  hunt- 
ing, and  cooking  utensils.  We  endeavor  to  reach  some  In- 
dian village  or  English  plantation  at  night-fall.  If  we  do 
not  succeed,  then  the  Father  secures  our  boat  to  the  bank, 
collects  wood  and  makes  a fire,  while  the  other  two  go  out 
to  hunt;  and  after  cooking  our  game,  we  take  some  refresh- 
ments, and  then  lie  down  to  sleep  around  the  fire.  When 
threatened  with  rain,  we  erect  a tent,  covering  it  with  our 
large  mat.  And  thanks  be  to  God,  we  enjoy  our  scanty  fare 
and  hard  beds,  as  much  as  if  we  were  accommodated  with 
the  luxuries  of  Europe.  The  consolation  we  find  in  the 
promises  of  the  Almighty  to  those  who  labor  faithfully  in 
His  service,  and  the  watchful  care  He  seems  to  have  of  us, 
gives  us  strength  to  bear  up  against  difficulties,  so  much  so, 
that  it  is  surprising  that  w’e  are  able  to  accomplish  what 
we  do.” 

This  kind  of  life  was  not  by  any  means  free  from  danger, 
but  to  Father  White  and  his  colleagues  life  was  less  dear 
than  duty.  Several  thrilling  adventures  and  miraculous  cures 
also  marked  this  period.  On  one  occasion,  an  Anacostan  In- 
dian, a Christian,  in  making  his  way  through  a wood,  dropped 
a little  behind  his  companions,  when  some  hostile  Susque- 
hannas  suddenly  fell  upon  him.  In  their  fury,  the  savages 
pierced  him  with  a light,  strong  spear  of  locust-wood — from 
which  they  made  their  arrows — tipped  with  a sharp  iron 
point.  The  deadly  weapon  passed  through  the  unhappy 
man  from  side  to  side,  about  the  width  of  a hand  below  the 
armpit,  and  quite  near  the  heart.  The  wound  was  described 
as  “two  fingers  broad  at  each  side.”  Thinking  they  had 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


469 


killed  the  Anacostan,  the  Susquehannas  fled.  His  compan- 
ions, however,  who  had  gone  on  before,  were  recalled  by 
the  sudden  noise  of  the  brief  struggle.  They  carried  the 
wounded  man  from  the  land  to  the  boat— which  was  near — 
and  thence  to  his  home  at  Pascatoway.  Here  they  left  him 
speechless  and  out  of  his  senses.  The  accident  was  reported 
to  the  venerable  AYhite,  who  was  always  at  hand,  or  going 
about  doing  good.  He  hastened  to  the  wigwam  the  follow 
ing  morning,  and  found  the  unhappy  Indian  before  the  door, 
lying  on  a mat  near  the  fire,  and  enclosed  by  a circle  of  his 
tribe.  He  was  not,  as  the  day  previously,  speechless  ox 
out  of  his  senses ; but  he  expected  death  every  moment. 
The  poor  Anacostan  joined  his  mournful  voice  with  the  song 
of  his  friends,  who  stood  around,  as  was  the  custom  when 
the  more  distinguished  men  of  the  tribe  were  about  to  die. 
But  some  of  his  friends  were  Christians,  and  they  sang  with 
musical  sweetness:  “May  he  live,  0 God!  if  it  so  please 
Thee.”  Again  and  again,  they  repeated  the  sweet  and 
plaintive  air,  until  Father  White  began  to  speak  to  the 
dying  man,  who  knew  the  aged  Jesuit,  and  showed  him  his 
wounds.  The  man  of  God  saw  the  danger  at  a glance,  and 
briefly  running  over  the  chief  articles  of  faith,  heard  the 
Indian’s  confession,  and  gave  him  absolution.  Then  elevat- 
ing his  soul  with  hope  and  confidence  in  God,  he  recited  the 
Gospel  which  is  to  be  read  for  the  sick,  and  the  Litany  of 
the  Most  Blessed  Virgin,  and  told  the  dying  warrior  to 
commend  himself  to  her  most  holy  intercession,  and  to  call 
unceasingly  on  the  blessed  name  of  Jesus.  Father  White 
then  applied  the  sacred  relic  of  the  Most  Holy  Cross — which 
he  carried  in  a casket  hung  about  his  neck — to  the  wound 
on  each  side.  The  missionary  was  now  obliged  to  leave. 
At  some  distance  away,  an  aged  Indian  was  near  death,  and 
he  wished  to  be  baptized.  As  Father  White  departed  from 
the  wigwam,  he  directed  the  bystanders  to  carry  the  Ana- 
costan, when  he  breathed  his  last,  to  the  chapel,  for  the  pur- 
pose of  burial. 

It  was  noon  when  the  Apostle  of  Maryland  finally  directed 
his  steps  towards  the  point  where  the  aged  Indian  expected 


470 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  3.  J. 


his  ministrations.  The  following  day,  at  the  same  hour,  as  he 
sailed  along  in  his  boat,  he  saw  two  Indians  paddling  to- 
wards him  When  they  came  alongside  one  of  them  put  his 
foot  in  the  Father’s  boat.  While  the  priest,  says  the  annual 
letter  of  1642,  “gazed  on  the  man  with  fixed  eyes,  being  in 
doubt,  for  in  a measure  he  recognized  him  by  his  features, 
who  he  was,  but  in  part  recollecting  in  what  state  he  had 
left  him  the  day  before,  when  the  Indian  on  a sudden  threw 
open  his  cloak  and  disclosed  the  cicatrices  of  the  wounds, 
or  rather  a red  spot  on  each  side,  as  a trace  of  the  wound, 
at  once  removed  all  doubt  from  him.  Moreover,  in  lan- 
guage full  of  joy,  he  exclaimed  that  he  was  entirely  well, 
nor  from  the  hour  at  which  the  Father  had  left  yester- 
day had  he  ceased  to  invoke  the  most  holy  name  of  Jesus, 
to  whom  he  attributed  his  recovered  health!  All  who  were 
in  the  boat  with  Father  White,  after  they  investigated  the 
thing,  both  by  the  senses  of  seeing  and  hearing,  breaking 
forth  into  praise  of  God  and  thanksgiving,  were  greatly 
rejoiced  and  confirmed  in  the  Faith  at  this  miracle.” 

The  gigantic  labors  of  Father  White  in  Maryland  were 
now  unhappily  approaching  their  termination.  By  him- 
self and  his  companions  in  ten  years  the  Gospel  had  been 
preached  with  success  to  the  Indians  at  St.  Mary’s;  at 
Kent  Island,  in  the  Chesapeake  Bay;  at  Pascatoway  and 
Port  Tobacco,  on  the  Maryland  side  of  the  Potomac;  at 
Patovvmeck  town,  on  the  Virginia  side  of  the  same  river; 
at  Mattapany  and  Pawtuxent  town,  on  the  Patuxent  river; 
and  at  many  other  places  which  were  visited  by  the  mission- 
aries in  their  aquatic  expeditions. 

But  misfortune  now  frowned  on  Maryland,  its  people,  and 
its  beautiful  scenes  of  missionary  toil.  A party  of  Puri- 
tans were  expelled  from  Virginia  in  1642,  and  seeking  refuge 
in  Maryland,  were  received  with  open  arms.  The  new- 
comers, however,  soon  began  to  manifest  a spirit  of  insur- 
rection. In  Clayborne,  a bold  and  lawless  man  who  was 
plotting  to  overthrow  the  government  of  Lord  Baltimore, 
they  found  a worthy  leader,  and,  with  the  basest  ingrati- 
tude, those  vile  men  raised  their  hands  against  the  kind 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  S.  J. 


471 


friends  >vho  had  succored  them  in  tho  hour  of  need.  Turn- 
ing about  like  vipers,  they  bit  the  very  benefactors  who  had 
warmed  them  into  life.  Clayborne  and  his  Protestant  mob 
triumphed  in  1644.  Governor  Calvert  was  obliged  to  fly,  and 
with  him  departed  peace,  justice,  and  religion.  Many  of 
the  Maryland  Catholics  were  banished,  and  robbed  of  their 
possessions.  Lawlessness  and  intolerance  ravaged  the  coun- 
try. The  altars  of  religion  were  overthrown,  and  even  the 
venerable  Apostle  of  Maryland  and  the  other  Jesuit  Fa- 
thers were  seized,  put  in  irons,  and  like  criminals  shipped  to 
England  and  cast  into  loathsome  dungeons. 

At  length.  Father  White  was  sentenced  to  perpetual  ban- 
ishment, for  the  awful  crime  of  being  a Jesuit  Father  and  a 
priest  of  spotless  life!  “Thirsting  for  the  salvation  of  hia 
dear  Marylanders,”  writes  Oliver,  “ he  sought  every  oppor- 
tunity of  returning  secretly  to  that  mission;  but  every  at- 
tempt proving  ineffectual,  he  was  content  to  devote  his 
remaining  energies  to  the  advantage  of  his  native  country. 
In  his  old  age,  even  to  the  end,  he  continued  his  custom  of 
fasting  on  bread  and  water  twice  a week.  Whilst  a pris- 
oner he  was  reminded  by  his  keeper  to  moderate  his  austeri- 
ties, and  to  reserve  his  strength  for  his  appearance  at  Ty- 
burn. ‘You  must  know,’  replied  Father  White,  ‘that  my 
fasting  gives  me  strength  to  bear  any  kind  of  suffering  for 
the  love  of  Jesus  Christ!’  This  truly  great  and  good  man 
died  peaceably  in  London,  on  tne  6th  of  January,  1657.’ 
From  the  comparison  of  various  documents,  I believe  he 
was  in  his  seventy-eighth  year  at  the  time  of  his  death.”  ’ 

Through  the  whole  life  of  this  illustrious  Jesuit,  we  see 
shining  forth  a character  of  crystal  purity,  manly,  fear 
less,  and  lofty.  It  is  a union  of  the  saint  and  hero.  As  a 
boy  he  defied  the  malice  of  persecution,  and  went  to  Douay; 
as  a priest  he  returned  home  with  the  whole  terrible  phalanx 
of  the  penal  laws  scowling  at  him,  and  threatening  him 
with  the  terrors  of  the  rack  and  the  barbarities  of  Tyburn. 
He  was  an  apostle,  and  feared  God,  but  not  the  whole 
power  of  apostate  England.  When  fifty-five  winters  had 


' Or  December  27th,  O.  S. 


3 Collection,  &c.,  Vol.  m. 


472 


FATHER  ANDREW  WHITE,  8.  J. 


frosted  his  venerable  head,  he  sought  the  wilderness  oi 
Maryland,  and  with  all  the  ardor  of  youth  and  the  keenness 
of  a scholar,  he  mastered  the  rude  dialects  of  the  forest, 
and  toiled  with  the  zeal  of  a Xavier,  and  the  strength  of  a 
moral  Hercules,  laboring  late  and  early,  his  finger  ever 
pointed  aloft,  directing  the  gaze  of  the  red  man  to  that 
happy  Heaven  beyond  the  clouds — the  home  of  the  Great 
cspirit,  where  tears,  and  sorrow,  and  suffering  are  unknown. 
When  misfortune  frowned  on  himself  and  his  fiock,  he  was 
great  in  misfortune.  He  trembled  not  when  the  clanking  of 
chains,  and  the  jarring  sound  of  the  dungeon  gates  mourn- 
fully greeted  his  old  age.  Smiling  at  the  tyranny  and  fe- 
rocity of  men,  he  welcomed  death,  which  to  him  was 
neither  a stranger  nor  an  enemy.  It  is  related  that  the  holy 
and  heroic  man  foresaw  and  named  the  very  day  and  hour 
of  his  departure,  which  was  to  fall,  he  said,  on  the  Feast  of 
St.  John  the  Evangelist.  On  that  day,  though  not  more  ill 
than  usual,  he  insisted  upon  receiving  the  last  Sacraments  ; 
and,  as  the  last  lingering  rays  of  the  evening  sun  streamed 
into  his  apartment,  the  pure  and  lofty  soul  of  Father  An- 
drew White  bade  adieu  to  the  scenes  of  this  world.  To  him 
is  due  the  foundation  of  that  Maryland  Church  which  has 
continued  to  shed  the  light  of  faith  on  our  country  for 
nearly  two  centuries  and  a half ; and,  in  truth,  he  de- 
serves to  be  called  the  Apostle  of  the  United  States. 

* The  venrr.ible  Father  While’s  works  were,  aecording  to  Dodd’s  English  Church  History, 
Vol.  III.,  p.  313.  " (1)  A Grammar  of  the  Indian  Language  ; (8)  A Dictionary  of  the  same  language; 
(.3)  A Catechism  m the  same  language  ; (4)  A History  of  Maryland.”  To  these  may  be  added  tbi 
Belatio  Ilituris,  or  Narrative  of  a Voyage  to  Maryland. 


MOTHER  MARY  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


FIRST  SUPERIORESS  OF  THE  URSULINES,  QUEBEC. 


MOTHER  MARY  OF  THE  INCARNATION, 

FIRST  SUPERIORESS  OF  THE  URSULINE  CONVENT  OF  QUEBEC. 


CHAPTER  I. 

A TEAE-AND-SMILE  CHAPTER  OF  LIFE. 

Mary' s parents  and  education— Marriage — Her  married 
life  not  happy — Death  of  her  husband — Prophetic 
words — Becomes  an  Ursulr.ce  nun — Her  business  tal- 
ents— A mysterious  dream — Madame  de  la  Peltrie — The 
singular  recognition — Embarking  for  Canada — On  the 
ocean — Up  the  St.  Lawrence — Recepticm  at  Quebec. 

Mary  Guyard,  known  in  history  and  religion  as  Mother 
Mary  of  the  Incarnation,  stands  first  on  the  long  roll  of 
great  and  saintly  women  who  have  shed  a luster  on  the 
annals  of  Canada.  She  was  born  in  the  city  of  Tours, 
France,  on  the  28th  of  October,  1599,  Her  parents,  Florenl 
Guyard  and  Jane  Michelet,  were  in  very  modest  circum- . 
etanes,  but  were  persons  of  eminent  piety  and  spotless  lives. 
To  their  little  daughter  they  gave  the  name  of  Mary,  and 
in  the  gift  of  that  beautiful  name  was  shadowed  forth  the 
grandeur  of  a noble  life — the  life  of  a Christian  heroine. 

“Mary!  sweet  name  revered  above, 

And  O how  dear  below! 

In  it  are  hope  and  holy  love. 

And  blessings  from  it  flow.” 


• Chief  anthorities  need:  Abb4  Bichandean,  ‘'Vie  dela  R4v6rende  Mere  Marie  de  I'lnoaiM' 
Hon;”  Abbe  Oasgrain.  “Vie  dela  Mere  Marie  de  I’Incamation;”  The  Ursulines  of  Quebec, 

“ Glimpses  of  the  Monastery;’  MacLeod,  “History  of  Devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  in  North' 
America;”  Parkman,  “The  Jesnits  in  North  America:”  Abb<  Ferland,  “Conrs  d’Histoire  im 
Oanada,'”  Charlevoix,  “ History  of  New  Fraaae.” 


473 


474 


MOTHER  MARY  OF  THE  INCABNATlOm 


Placed  in  such  a school  of  life,  and  endowed  with  rare 
dispositions,  we  are  not  surprised  to  learn  that  the  girl  grew 
in  wisdom,  age,  and  grace.  lit  one  of  her  letters,  written 
years  afterwards,  she  says:  “The  good  education  which 
1 had  received  from  my  parents,  who  were  most  pious 
Christians,  laid  an  excellent  foundation  in  my  soul;  and  I 
cannot  but  bless  the  God  of  goodness  for  His  gracious  kind- 
ness to  me  in  this  connection.  It  is  a great  step  in  the  way 
of  virtue  and  a precious  preparation  for  a high  degree  of 
piety,  to  fall  into  hands  which  carefully  mould  the  first 
years  of  our  existence.” 

There  are  many  mansions  in  Heaven,  and  it  seems  that 
all  who  reach  them  do  not  travel  the  same  road  of  life. 
Though  manifesting  some  desire  lor  the  religious  state, 
Mary  Guyard,  in  her  eighteenth  year,  and  in  obedience  to  the 
wishes  of  her  parents,  gave  her  hand  in  marriage  to  Claudius 
Joseph  Martin.  He  was  a silk  manufacturer,  and  a young 
man  of  most  estimable  character. 

The  first  care  of  Madame  Martin  in  her  new  state  was  to 
make  the  fear  of  God  reign  in  her  house.  She  was  a model 
of  order  and  industry,  and  such  was  her  life  of  faith  that 
we  are  assured  by  her  biographers  that  her  most  common  ac- 
tions were  transformed  into  practices  of  piety.  For  her  hus- 
band who  was.  to  use  her  own  words,  “a  good.  God-fearing 
man,”  she  always  entertained  the  most  affectionate  respect ; 
and  yet  their  married  life  was  far  from  being  happy.  But  the 
cause  of  this  we  know  not.  Two  years  after  his  marriage, 
however,  Mr.  Martin  died,  leaving  his  young  wife,  scarcely 
twenty  years  of  age,  with  an  infant  some  six  months  old, 
without  fortune,  and  even  with  very  scanty  means  of  sup- 
port. 

When  Mary  Guyard  was  about  to  become  a bride,  more 
through  obedience  than  love  or  inclination,  she  said  to  her 
mother:  “Mother,  since  the  resolution  is  taken,  and  that 
my  father  absolutely  wills  it,  I believe  that  I am  obliged  to 
bow  to  his  decision  and  to  yours,  but  if  God  will  grant  me 
the  grace  of  giving  me  a son,  I now  promise  to  consecrate 
him  to  the  Divine  service ; and  if,  afterwards.  He  should 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION 


476 


restore  to  me  the  liberty  which  I am  now  losing,  1 also 
promise  to  consecrate  myself  to  Him.’"  There  is  something 
singularly  prophetic  in  these  words. 

But  a long  road  of  sorrow  and  suffering  was  to  be  traveled 
before  either  of  these  sublime  objects  was  accomplished. 
Solitude,  meditation,  fasting,  prayer,  continual  attention  to 
the  holy  presence  of  God,  the  use  of  the  hair-shirt  and  all 
kinds  of  mortification,  and  wonderful  favors  from  Heaven 
— these  might  form  the  headings  of  so  many  chapters  in  rela- 
tion to  this  period  in  the  life  of  this  heroic  woman.  ” I 
should  regard  as  lost,”  she  writes,  “a  day  passed  without 
suffering.” 

At  length,  after  twelve  years  had  brought  her  son  beyond 
the  helplessness  of  infancy,  Madame  Martin  confided  him  to 
her  sister’s  care,  tore  herself  from  his  presence,  and  entered 
the  cloister.  Truly,  these  years  of  probation  had  been  to 
her  the  narrow,  thorny  path  leading  to  the  mountain  heights 
of  sanctity.  Long  before  pronouncing  her  vows  as  a re- 
ligious, she  had  practised  the  counsels  of  evangelical  per- 
fection. 

On  the  25th  of  January,  1631,  Madame  Martin  entered  the 
convent  of  the  Ursulines,  in  the  city  of  Tours.  Two  years 
after  she  made  her  religious  profession,  and  henceforth  she 
will  be  know  as  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation. 

It  may,  perhaps,  seem  strange  that  this  lady,  capable  of 
such  exalted  spirituality,  was  also  gifted  to  a rare  degree 
with  the  faculties  most  useful  in  the  practical  affairs  of  life 
During  the  several  years  she  spent  in  the  house  of  her 
brother-in-law,  she  proved  how  able  and  efficient  she  was  to 
aid  him  in  the  conduct  of  his  business.  Her  heart  was  far 
away  from  these  mundane  interests,  but  her  talent  for  busi- 
ness was  not  the  less  displayed.  Of  this  her  spiritual  guides 
were  aware,  and  saw  clearly  that  gifts  so  useful  to  the  world 
might  be  made  equally  useful  to  the  Church.  Hence  it 
was  that  she  was  made  Superioress  of  the  convent  which 
Madame  de  la  Peltrie  was  about  to  endow  at  Quebec. 

“I  now  see,”  wrote  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation  to- 
wards the  end  of  her  days,  “ thait  all  the  states  of  life,  triale 


476 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


and  labors  through  which  I have  passed,  have  had  but  one 
object — to  form  me  for  the  work  to  be  done  in  Canada.” 

Not  long  after  her  admittance  into  the  Ursuline  convent, 
a mysterious  dream  or  vision  shadowed  forth  her  future 
career.  Over  a dark  and  perilous  way  the  holy  novice 
seemed  to  grope  hand  in  hand  with  an  unknown  lady.  A ven- 
erable personage  directed  the  travelers  by  a motion  of  his 
hand,  and  they  entered  a spacious  court,  formed  by  the 
buildings  of  a religious  institution.  The  pavement  was  of 
white  marble,  intersected  by  lines  of  vermilion.  Over  all 
seemed  to  breathe  the  spirit  of  peace  On  one  side  arose  a 
chapel  of  the  purest  alabaster,  upon  the  summit  of  which, 
as  upon  a throne,  were  seated  the  Holy  Virgin  and  the 
Divine  Child. 

The  Queen  of  Heaven  seemed  to  be  gazing  upon  a deso- 
late country,  covered  with  fogs,  and  traversed  by  mountains, 
valleys,  and  vast  precipices.  In  the  midst  of  these  gloomy 
wastes,  the  spires  and  gable-ends  of  a little  church  could  be 
discerned,  just  visible  above  the  misty  atmosphere.  She 
looked  with  sadness  on  the  dismal  scene  before  her;  and  as 
Mary  of  the  Incarnation  pressed  forward,  close  to  her  seat, 
the  dear  Mother  of  Mercy  turned  towards  her  with  a sweet 
smile  of  welcome,  and,  gently  bending  down,  she  kissed  the 
fair  traveler’s  forehead.  Then  she  seemed  to  whisper  some 
message  to  the  Divine  Child.  It  concerned  the  salvation  of 
souls.  Our  heroine  heard  not  the  words,  but  she  caught 
their  purport;  and,  on  awaking,  her  glowing  heart  burned 
more  than  ever  for  the  conversion  of  pagan  nations.* 

A year  later  the  mystery  was  removed.  A voice  within 

1 The  non-CathoUc  Parkman  describes  the  vision  thus:  “ In  a dream  she  (Mary  of  the  Incarna- 
tion) beheld  a lady  unknown  to  her.  She  took  her  hand;  and  the  two  journeyed  together  westward, 
towards  the  sea.  They  soon  met  one  of  the  Apastles,  clothed  all  in  white,  who,  with  a wave  of 
his  hand,  directed  them  on  their  way.  They  now  entered  on  a scene  of  surpassing  magnificence. 
Beneath  their  feet  was  a pavement  of  squares  of  white  marble,  spotted  with  vermilion,  and  inter- 
sected with  lines  of  vivid  scarlet;  and  all  around  stood  monasteries  of  matchless  architecture. 
But  the  two  travelers,  without  stopping  to  admire,  moved  swiftly  on  till  they  beheld  the  Virgin 
seated  with  her  Infant  Son  on  a small  temple  of  white  marble,  which  served  her  as  a throne.  She 
seemed  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  was  of  a ‘ravishing  beauty.’  Her  head  was  turned  aside; 
she  was  gazing  fixedly  on  a wild  waste  of  mountains  and  valleys,  half  concealed  in  mist.  Marie 
de  rincamation  approached  with  outstretched  arms,  adoring.  The  vision  bent  towards  her,  and, 
smiling,  kissed  her  three  times,  whereupon,  in  a rapture,  the  dreamer  awoke."— TAe  Jesuitt 
Forth  Amorioa. 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


477 


the  soul  of  Mary  of  the  Incarnation  called  upon  her  to 
found  a convent  of  her  Order  in  Canada.  She  appeared  to 
hear  the  Master  of  Life  urging  her  to  go  to  that  new  land, 
and  “build  a house  to  Jesus  and  Mary.”  The  Church  of 
Canada  was  then  in  its  infancy.  Its  foundation  stone  had 
recently  been  laid,  through  the  lofty  zeal  of  Champlain. 
The  illustrious  Father  John  de  Brebeut,  S.  J.,  and  a band  of 
Jesuits  were  toiling  among  the  Hurons  of  Upper  Canada;  and 
other  apostolic  priests  of  the  same  Society  were  laboring  at 
Quebec,  or  scattered  at  various  points  along  the  St. 
Lawrence. 

The  “Jesuit  Relations,”  which  the  Canadian  mission- 
aries began  to  publish  in  1632,  found  their  way  to  the  Ursu- 
line  Convent  at  Tours,  and  helped  to  fan  the  flame.  It  is 
for  the  Almighty  to  provide  the  way  for  the  accomplish 
ment  of  his  own  designs.  In  what  manner  this  was  brough? 
about,  we  shall  now  briefly  relate. 

Near  the  little  town  of  Alengon,  in  Normandy,  stood  the 
castle  of  the  Lord  of  Vaubougon,  the  ancestral  home  of 
Mary  Magdalene  de  Chauvigny,  better  known  by  the  name  of 
Madame  de  la  Peltrie.  Like  Mary  of  the  Incarnation,  she 
had  entered  the  married  state  through  pure  compliance  to 
the  will  of  her  parento. 

Mile,  de  Chauvigny  wished  to  be  a religious.  Her  father, 
however,  passionately  fond  of  his  beautiful  daughter,  re- 
sisted her  inclination  for  the  cloister,  and  sought  to  wean 
her  back  to  the  world;  but  she  escaped  from  the  chateau  to 
a neighboring  convent,  where  she  resolved  to  remain.  Her 
father  followed,  carried  her  home,  and  engaged  her  in  a 
round  of  fUes  and  hunting  parties,  in  the  midst  of  which 
she  found  herself  surprised  into  a betrothal  to  M.  de  la 
Peltrie,  a young  gentleman  of  rank  and  character. 

The  marriage  proved  a happy  one,  and  Madame  de  la 
Peltrie,  with  an  excellant  grace,  bore  her  part  in  the  world 
she  had  wished  to  renounce.  After  a union  of  five  years, 
her  husband  died,  and  she  was  left  a widow  and  childless 
at  the  age  of  twenty-two.  She  now  gave  her  life  and  free- 
dom to  charity  and  devotion.  The  good  lady  had  heard  of 


478 


MOTHER  MART  OT  THE  INCARNATION. 


Canada;  and  when  Father  Le  Jeune’s  first  '‘Relations”  ap- 
peared, she  read  them  with  delight.  “Alas!”  wrote  the 
Father,  “is  there  no  charitable  and  virtuous  lady  who  will 
come  to  this  country  to  gather  up  the  blood  of  Christ,  by 
teaching  His  word  to  the  little  Indian  girls.” 

This  warm  appeal  found  a prompt  and  vehement  answei 
from  the  thrilling  breast  of  Madame  de  la  Peltrie.  Hence- 
forth she  thought  of  nothing  but  Canada.  A high  and  noble 
purpose  filled  her  soul.  She  resolved  to  go  to  that  heathen 
land,  and  '^ather  up  the  precious  blood  of  Christ.  But  be- 
fore she  had  actually  taken  any  step  towards  the  fulfillment 
of  her  pious  project,  she  fell  dangerously  ill.  Her  life  was 
despaired  of.  In  this  extremity,  she  made  a solemn  vow  to 
go  to  Canada,  and  to  found,  in  honor  of  St.  Joseph,  an  Ursu- 
line  convent  for  the  instruction  of  the  little  Indian  and 
French  girls. 

Suddenly,  as  from  the  brink  of  the  grave,  she  arose  to 
perfect  health.  But  many  difficulties  yet  remained  to  be 
overcome.  Family  interests  changed  them  to  persecution. 
She  was  harassed  by  legal  proceedings.  Those  who  cov- 
eted the  wealth  she  was  giving  to  good  works  were  even 
determined  to  deprive  her  of  her  liberty  in  order  to  obtain 
it.  By  the  advice  of  wise  and  learned  priests,  however,  she 
adopted  measures  which  thwarted  all  opposition,  and  be- 
gan to  carry  out  her  design  of  proceeding  to  the  wilderness 
of  the  New  World  in  order  to  found  an  Ursuline  convent  on 
the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence. 

It  remained  to  obtain  nuns  for  the  proposed  foundation. 
Madame  de  la  Peltrie  sought  the  advice  of  Father  Poncet, 
S.  J.,  who  was  charged  with  the  Canadian  missions;  and  to 
her  great  joy  learned  from  him  the  particulars  of  the  life 
and  vocation  of  Mary  of  the  Incarnation.  Not  many  weeks 
later,  the  pious  widow  was  at  Tours,  negotiating  the  affair 
with  the  Archbishop. 

Madame  de  la  Peltrie  was  no  sooner  admitted  into  the 
convent,  than  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation  recognized 
in  her  the  unknown  companion  with  whom,  in  that  myste- 
rious dream,  eight  years  before,  she  had  toiled  along  a per- 


MOTHER  MARY  OF  THE  INCARNATION 


479 


ilous  pathway  through  the  wilderness  of  a strange  land,  it 
was  necessary  to  choose  a companion  for  Mother  Mary 
and  this  was  equally  overruled  by  Providence  All  were 
anxious  to  obtain  the  nomination.  , 

One  alone,  in  her  humility,  judged  herself  unworthy  of 
such  a distinction:  but  she  was  the  chosen  one.  Of  noble 
birth,  gentle  mien,  and  delicate  health,  the  youthful  and 
accomplished  Mary  de  la  Troche,  known  in  religion  as 
Mother  St.  Joseph,  was  too  timid  and  too  modest  to  think  of 
herself  as  a candidate  for  the  wild  Canadian  mission.  Yet 
this  sweet,  delicate  girl  was  chosen,  and  wisely  chosen. 

It  now  remained  to  regulate  the  temporal  affairs  of  the 
projected  foundation,  and  to  receive  the  benediction  of  the 
Archbishop  of  Tours.  The  assembly  was  held  in  the  archi- 
episcopal  residence.  The  venerable  prelate,  who  was  in 
his  eightieth  year,  was  deeply  moved.  And  when  the  mo- 
ment for  parting  came,  he  arose,  presented  the  two  nuns  to 
Madame  de  la  Peltrie,  and  addressed  her  in  these  remark- 
able words: 

“These  are  the  two  foundation  stones  of  the  temple 
which  you  are  about  to  erect  in  the  New  World  for  the 
glory  of  God.  For  this  end,  and  according  to  your  request, 
I entrust  them  to  you.  On  the  model  of  the  Jerusalem 
above,  may  they  be  two  precious  stones  in  the  foundation. 
May  this  edifice  be  a mansion  of  peace  and  grace  and  celes- 
tial blessings,  more  abundant  than  those  of  the  ancient  Tem- 
ple of  Solomon.  May  the  efforts  of  hell  never  prevail 
against  it,  any  more  than  against  the  Holy  Chui-ch.  And 
since  this  house  is  to  be  built  for  the  Almighty,  may  He  fix 
His  dwelling  there,  as  the  Father  and  as  the  Spouse,  not 
only  of  the  nuns  whom  I confide  to  you,  but  of  all  who 
may  accompany  them,  or  who  will  live  there  after  them,  to 
the  end  of  time.” 

On  the  4th  of  May,  1639,  Madame  de  la  Peltrie,  Mother 
Mary  of  the  Incarnation,  Mother  Mary  of  St.  Joseph,  and 
another  Ursuline'  embarked  at  Dieppe  for  Canada.  In  the 

> This  third  companion  was  Mother  Cecilia  Richer  of  the  Cross;  she  had  been  a member  of  the 
Ursuline  convent  at  Dieppe. 


480 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


ship  were  also  three  young  Hospital  nuns,  sent  out  to  found 
at  Quebec  a Hotel  Dieu,  endowed  by  the  Duchess  of  Aiguil- 
lon,  the  famous  niece  of  Cardinal  Richelieu.  Here,  too, 
were  Father  Poncet,  S.  J.,  and  Father  Chaumonot,  S.  J.,  on 
the  way  to  their  mission,  together  with  Father  Yimont, 
S.  J.,  who  was  to  succeed  Father  Le  Jeune,  S.  J.,  in  his  post 
of  Superior. 

To  the  nuns,  pale  from  the  cloistered  seclusion,  there 
must  have  been  a strange  and  startling  novelty  in  this  new 
world  of  life  and  action — the  ship,  the  sailors,  the  shouts  of 
command,  the  flapping  of  sails,  the  salt  wind,  and  the  toss- 
ing, boisterous  sea.  The  voyage  was  long  and  tedious. 
Sometimes  they  lay  in  their  berths,  sea-sick  and  woe-be- 
gone;  sometimes  they  sang  in  choir  on  deck,  or  heard  Mass 
in  the  cabin. 

Once,  on  a misty  morning,  a wild  cry  of  alarm  startled 
crew  and  passengers  alike.  A huge  iceberg  was  irifting 
close  upon  them.  The  peril  was  extreme.  Madame  de  la 
Peltrie  clung  to  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation,  who  stood 
perfectly  calm,  and  gathered  her  gown  about  her  feet,  that 
she  might  drown  with  decency.  In  this  moment  of  peril 
they  made  a vow  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  St.  Joseph; 
Father  Yimont  offered  it  in  behalf  of  all  the  company,  and 
the  ship  glided  into  the  open  sea  unharmed.* 

It  was  midsummer  when  they  arrived  in  the  harbor  of 
Tadoussac,  at  the  confluence  of  the  Saguenay  with  the  St. 
Lawrence.  Our  travelers,  no  doubt,  were  impressed  with 
the  stern,  savage  grandeur  of  the  scenery.  There  stood 
frowning  the  bleak,  impending  cliffs,  rising  perpendicularly, 
and  forming  a gigantic  gateway,  through  which  the  dark 
waters  of  the  somber  Saguenay  issue — a fathomless  flood — 
reminding  the  spectator  of  long  ages  past,  and  the  terrible 
convulsions  of  nature  since  her  birth. 

The  dense,  lonely  forests  were  unbroken,  save  by  the 
curling  smoke  of  the  vugwam  Are,  or  the  rude  sheds  of  the 
trading  station.  Strange  and  wild  were  these  swarthy  hunt- 


■ Parkman. 


MOTHER  MARY  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


481 


ers,  the  roving  Algouqiiins,  who  had  come  to  this  point, 
bringing  their  furs — the  skin  of  the  beaver,  the  seal,  and  the 
marten,  to  exchange  for  knives,  kettles,  blankets,  and  other 
European  commodities.  The  poor  Indians  gazed  with  amaze- 
ment on  these  fair  “daughters  of  sachems,”  who,  they  were 
told,  had  left  their  happy  homes  beyond  the  “ Great  Sea” 
to  teach  the  wives  and  daughters  of  the  red  man  how  to  live 
in  this  world,  and  prepare  themselves  for  the  next. 

The  apostolic  passengers  were  impatient  to  reach  their 
destination.  Leaving  the  ship  in  which  they  had  traversed 
the  Atlantic  to  its  traffic,  they  pushed  up  the  river  in  a 
smaller  vessel.  It  was  the  1st  of  August,  1639,  as  they 
neared  the  still  rude  fortress  of  Quebec.  All  labor  ceased, 
and  the  cannon  boomed  welcome  from  the  heights  of  Cape 
Diamond.  The  wooden  tenements  and  the  Indian  camp- 
lodges  alike  sent  forth  their  inhabitants  to  view  the  religious 
strangers.  The  gallant  Governor  Montmagny,  in  brilliant 
uniform,  surrounded  by  his  staff,  some  Jesuit  Fathers,  and 
a file  of  soldiers,  were  all  ranged  on  the  shore. 

On  landing,  the  nuns  fell  prostrate,  and  kissed  the  soil  of 
Canada.  The  pious  cortege  moved  on,  climbing  the  zig-zag 
pathway  up  the  steep  now  known  as  Mountain  street.  At 
the  top  of  the  hill,  to  the  left,  was  the  little  chapel  of  our 
Lady  of  Recovery,  which  had  been  built  by  Champlain  in 
1632.  Mass  was  offered  up  by  the  Father  Superior  of  the 
missions.  The  Te  Deum  was  chanted.  Then  they  dined  at 
the  fort,  and  presently  set  forth  to  visit  the  new  settlement 
of  Sillery,  four  miles  above  Quebec. 

Noel  Brulart  de  Sillery,  a Knight  of  Malta,  who  had  once 
filled  the  highest  offices  under  the  Queen  Marie  de  Medicis, 
had  now  severed  his  connection  with  his  Order,  renounced  the 
world,  and  become  a priest.  He  devoted  his  vast  revenues 
to  the  founding  of  religious  establishments.  Among  otner 
endowments,  he  had  placed  ample  funds  in  the  hands  of  the 
Jesuit  Fathers  for  the  formation  of  a settlement  of  Chris- 
tian Indians  at  the  spot  which  still  bears  his  name.  On  the 
strand  of  Sillery  between  the  river  and  the  woody  heights 
behind,  were  clustered  the  small  log-cabins  of  a number  of 


482 


MOTHER  MARY  OP  IHE  INCARNATION. 


Algonquins,  converts,  together  with  a church,  a mission 
house,  and  an  infirmary — the  whole  surrounded  by  a pali- 
sade. ‘ It  was  to  this  place  that  Madame  de  la  Peltrie,  Mary 
of  the  Incarnation,  and  their  companions  were  now  con- 
ducted by  the  Jesuits.  The  scene  delighted  and  edified 
them;  and  in  the  transports  of  their  zeal,  they  seized  and 
kissed  every  female  Indian  child  on  whom  they  could  lay 
hands,  “without  minding,”  says  Father  LeJeune,  “whether 
they  were  dirty  or  not."'  “Love  and  charity,”  he  adds, 
“triumphed  over  every  human  consideration.”* *  . 

When  the  nuns  visited  the  chapel  they  heard  for  the  first 
time  the  voices  of  the  Indians  singing  hymns — hymns,  too, 
in  a language  that  seemed  like  the  chattering  and  tv/ittering 
of  birds.  Father  Le  Jeune  announced  that  a neophyte  was 
to  be  baptized,  and  Madame  de  la  Peltrie  stood  as  god- 
mother. 

The  Ursulines  retired  to  their  humble  abode.  It  was  a 
small  building  on  the  wharf,  and  they  had  merely  the  loan 
of  it.  It  was,  perhaps,  preferable  to  an  Indian  wigwam; 
in  which,  however,  the  heroic  Mother  Mary  of  che  Incarna- 
tion declared  that  she  was  prepared  to  lodge. 

' The  Reduction  consisted  of  some  fifteen  families  their  habitations  varying  from  the  primi 
tive  rudeness  of  the  Algonquin  wigwam  to  the  substantial  stone  hnt  ...  At  the  sight  of  the  nuns, 
clad  in  their  peculiar  costume,  the  poor  squaws  gather  up  their  little  papooses,  and  seem  ready 
to  flee  to  the  woods  with  them.  The  older  red-skinned  urchins  stop  their  play  and  huddle  to 
gether  ; but  ai  a motion  from  the  good  priest,  whom  they  know,  all  gather  round,  and  soon  forget 
their  fright.—  Glimpses  of  the  Motsastery,  Vol.  I. 

* Pwkman. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARITATION  AND  HER  PUPILS. 

Learning  the  Indian  languages — I he  little  consent  and 
academy — Small-pox — Convent  life  — Difficulties — The 
Indian  girl  as  a convent  pupil — Some  examples— 
Teresa^  the  Huron  girl — Her  letter  to  Mother  Mary  on 
parting  from  her  convent  home. — So  hoc  snort  and  sharp 
reflections. 

Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation  and  her  Ursnlines  began 
laboring,  “according  to  their  Institute,”  for  the  French 
pupils  at  the  same  time  that  they  were  tasking  their  ener 
gies  to  acquire  the  Indian  languages.  In  Father  Le  Jeune, 
S.  J.,  they  had  an  able  and  willing  teacher,  who  had  become 
learned  in  the  barbarous  dialects  of  America  only  at  the  ex 
pense  of  hard  toil,  and  many  months  of  forest  life  with  the 
roving  savages.* 

We  must,  however,  have  a peep  at  the  interior  of  the  lit- 
tle convent  and  academy.  This  stately  residence  consisted 
of  two  rooms,  the  larger  being  sixteen  feet  square.  The 
other  was  smaller,  and  was  enriched  with  a cellar  and  gar- 
ret. The  larger  apartment  served  as  a dormitory,  the  beds 
being  arranged  in  tiers  along  the  wall;  but  it  was  also  a 
parlor,  choir,  kitchen,  refectory,  and  recreation  room.  The 


• Father  Paul  Le  Jeune  was  one  of  the  first  J isuita  that  came  to  Canada.  At  first  his  duties  as 
Superior  prevented  his  going  on  the  mission  among  the  Indians,  and  he  was  obliged  to  learn  their 
language,  as  best  he  could,  in  his  room.  To  assist  him  in  his  daily  lessons,  he  engaged  the  ser- 
vices  of  an  Algonquin  named  Pierre.  Seated  ■jn  wooden  stools  by  the  rough  table  in  the  refec- 
tory, the  priest  and  the  Indian  pursued  their  studies.  “ How  thankful  I am,”  wrote  Father  Le 
Jeune,  “ to  those  who  gave  me  tobacco  last  year.  At  every  difliculty  I give  my  master  a piece  of 
It.  to  make  him  more  attentive!”  The  worthy  Jesuit,  desirous  of  still  more  familiarizing  himself 
with  Indian  customs,  language  and  mode  of  life,  determined,  after  some  time,  to  spend  a portion 
If  the  winter  among  the  savages  near  Quebec.  He  roamed  with  them  for  several  months,  being 
oadly  treated,  half-starved,  almost  frozen,  and  fortunate  in  getting  back  with  his  head  safely 
seated  on  his  shoulders.— i\>pu/ar  History  qf  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States. 

483 


484 


MOTHER  MARY  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


smaller  apartment  was  the  class-room.  An  additional  wing 
— a sort  of  shed — served  as  a kind  of  exteriof  parlor,  where, 
through  the  usual  grating,  the  nuns  could  speak  of  God 
and  Religion  to  feathered  chiefs  and  dusky  warriors. 

Happily,  the  Canadian  colonists  had  invented  an  order 
of  architecture  which  was  not  very  expensive.  A ie.v 
strong  posts  of  oak,  maple,  or  some  other  hard  wood,  were 
driven  into  the  ground;  some  bars  bound  them  together; 
the  whole  was  then  covered  with  planks,  and  finished  off 
with  rough  plastering.  The  edifice  was  thus  completed.  A 
chapel  in  this  style,  before  the  winter  closed  in,  was  raised, 
and  received  the  ‘gilded  tabernacle,”  the  parting  gift  of  a 
friend.  It  is  a delightfully  ‘ devout  chapel” — so  one  who 
saw  it  affirms — “agreeable  for  its  poverty;”  and,  above  all, 
precious  to  Mother  Mary  and  her  companions,  for  it  was 
the  residence  of  the  hidden  Redeemer. 

The  Ursulines  had  scarcely  time  to  put  their  humble 
abode  in  order,  when  that  terrible  scourge,  the  small-pox, 
suddenly  transformed  it  into  a hospital.  The  Indian  chil- 
dren especially  were  attacked  with  virulence,  and  the  nuns 
had  abundant  occasion  for  the  exercise  of  kindness,  pa- 
tience, and  charity.  Night  and  day  the  little  tawny  suffer- 
ers were  tended  by  their  indefatigable  nurses.  Four  chil- 
dren died  of  the  frightful  malady,  and  then  it  entirely  dis- 
appeared; but  not  until  the  whole  stock  of  linen  for  the 
use  of  the  Indian  children  and  the  convent  was  exhausted. 
This  was  a serious  loss.  There  was  no  supply  to  be  got 
nearer  than  France. 

Winter  passed  away,  and  the  annual  fleet  from  the 
Mother  Country  brought  tw©  more  Ursulines  to  the  little 
convent  at  Quebec,  where  they  “live  in  admirable  peace 
and  union.”  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation,  wrote  one 
of  the  religious  newcomers,  “treats  me  with  too  much 
honor.  The  sweet  odor  of  sanctity  seems  to  surround 
her,  and  to  embalm  all  who  approach  her.  Mother  St. 
Joseph' is  a charming  person,  most  accomplished  in  every 


The  gentle  and  deli'ate  Mary  do  la  Troche. 


MOTHER  MARY  Of  THE  INCARNATION. 


485 


way  During  recreation  she  often  makes  us  laugh  till  we 
fairly  cry  It  is  impossible  to  be  melancholy  in  her  com- 
pany She  loves  the  little  Indian  girls  like  a mother. 
After  cathechism,  she  teaches  them  to  sing  hymns  and  to 
touch  the  viol.  Sometimes  she  leaves  them  to  perform  one  of 
their  own  pantomime  dances,  and  the  little  scholars  make  no 
ceremony  of  inviting  Madame  de  la  Peltrie  to  dance  with 
them,  which  she  does  with  the  best  grace  in  the  world.” 

Such  incidents  in  the  past  belong  to  the  beauties  of 
American  Catholic  history  The  Ursulines  had,  indeed, 
come  to  Canada  at  the  opportune  moment.  The  field  in 
which  apostolic  missionaries  labored  long  with  but  little 
success  had,  at  last,  begun  to  yield  fruit.  Mother  Mary 
of  the  Incarnation  and  her  Ursulines  considered  themselves 
supremely  happy  in  being  called  to  aid  in  gathering  in  the 
precious  harvest. 

The  difficulties  of  the  situation,  however,  were  enormous. 
The  expenses  were  large.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind  that  the 
Indian  pupils — and  sometimes  even  their  families — had  to 
be  fed  and  clothed  gratis.  At  the  parlor,  where  the  nuns 
exercised  their  zeal  in  behalf  of  the  warriors,  it  was  not 
merely  the  bread  of  instruction  that  was  to  be  broken;  but, 
according  to  the  Indian  laws  of  hospitality,  the  food  of  the 
body  was  indispensable. 

Among  those  hardy  rovers  of  the  wilderness  in  Canada, 
it  was  considered  an  affront  to  send  away  a guest  without 
inviting  him  to  eat.  The  “pot  of  Sagamite^^  had  to  be 
constantly  on  the  fire.  From  time  to  time,  a more  “splen- 
did banquet”  was  prepared  for  sixty  or  eighty  dusky  vis- 
itors. On  such  occasions  it  required  “a  bushel  of  black 
plums,  twenty-four  pounds  of  bread,  a due  quantity  of  In- 
dian meal  or  ground  peas,  a dozen  of  tallow  candles 
melted,  and  two  or  three  pounds  of  fat  pork” — all  well 
boiled  together.  “It  would  be  a pity,”  writes  Mother 
Mary  of  the  Incarnation,  “ to  deprive  these  poor  people  of 
such  a feast,  since  it  requires  no  more  to  content  even  their 
sachems  and  war-chiefs.” 

It  must  be  confessed  that  this  was  remarkable  work  for 


486 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


five  Ursulines  to  accomplish.  The  toil  was  beyond  theii 
strength.  The  visits  to  the  wonderful  parlor  were  unceas- 
ing. “But,”  says  the  great  Mother  Mary,  “the  providence 
of  our  Heavenly  Father  supplies  all  things.  The  pot  of 
sagamite  was  never  empty.” 

Let  us  glance  at  another  side  of  the  picture  in  which  the 
heroic  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation  was  the  chief  figure. 
In  a moral  sense,  the  distance  was  infinite  from  the  forest- 
home  of  the  Indian  girl  to  the  convent.  She  was  as  frolic- 
some and  wild  as  the  little  animals  which  roamed  the  woods, 
and  she  knew  as  little  as  they  of  obedience  and  wholesome 
restraint.  The  only  authority  she  was  invited  to  respect 
was  that  of  her  mother,  or,  perhaps,  of  her  aged  grand- 
parents. But  if  she  chose  to  be  willful,  on  no  account  was 
she  punished  or  compelled  to  obey. 

The  young  Indian  beauty’s  clothing  was  scanty,  and  of 
the  roughest  material.  In  vsdnter  only  were  her  feet  covered 
with  coarse  moccasins.  She  knew  of  no  cosmetics  save  suet 
and  bear’s  grease;  and  her  matted  hair  had  never  been  vis- 
ited by  either  comb  or  scissors.  Her  bed  had  always  been 
the  ground,  near  the  wigwam  fire;  and  this  was  shared 
equally  by  dogs,  fleas,  papooses,  warriors,  and,  in  short,  by 
whole  families.  It  is  not  very  surprising  to  learn  that  some 
of  these  “wild  birds,”  caged  for  the  first  time,  occasionally 
flew  off  to  the  forest;  but  when  the  affection  and  great  pa- 
tience of  Mother  Mary  ot  the  Incarnation  had  tamed  them, 
they  proved  most  open  to  instruction,  and  quite  exemplary 
in  piety. 

The  little  Algonquins  of  Sillery  were  the  first  pupils  the 
Ursulines  undertook  to  form;  and  as  neither  understood  the 
language  of  the  other,  the  difficulty  must  have  been  extreme. 
But  “a  great  desire  to  speak,”  wrote  Mother  Mary,  “is  a 
great  help  towards  doing  so.”  We  may  readily  believe  it, 
when  we  are  told  that  the  nuns  were  able  to  begin  to  in- 
struct in  Algonquin  before  the  end  of  two  months. 

Their  holy  toil  was  blessed  with  remarkable  success. 
Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation  declares  that  these  new 
Christians  were  as  meek  as  little  lambs,  and  that  after  their 


MOTHER  MART  OF  TEE  INCARNATION. 


487 


baptism  they  preserved  an  admirable  purity  of  conscience. 
Among  her  first  Indian  pupils,  the  venerable  lady  mentions 
Mary  Gamitiens,  who  was  but  six  years  of  age,  and  was 
no  sooner  awake  in  the  morning  than  her  little  lips  began 
to  speak  in  the  language  of  prayer.  She  said  her  beads 
during  Mass,  and  sang  hymns  in  her  own  language. 

Mary  Negalamat  was  a wild  child  of  the  woods,  and  at 
first  did  not  relish  school-life  at  the  convent.  Once  she  ran 
off  to  the  forest,  tearing  her  red  tunic  to  shreds.  But  she 
was  brought  back,  and  became  a good  girl.  She  was  one  of 
a small  band  preparing  for  first  Communion.  The  instruct- 
ors were  Father  Pigart,  S.  J.,  and  Mother  Mary  of  the 
Incarnation.  Mary,  especially,  was  in  great  jubilation. 

“Why  are  you  so  joyful?”  inquired  somebody. 

“Oh!  ” cried  this  dear  little  dusky  daughter  of  the  wil- 
derness, “I  shall  soon  receive  Jesus  into  my  heart.” 

Mother  Mary’ s first  Huron  pupil  was  a niece  of  the  fa- 
mous war-chief  Chihatenhwa.  On  a visit  to  Quebec  he  had 
seen  the  “holy  virgins,’  ’ robed  in  black,  who  had  come  to 
teach  the  little  Indian  girls  the  way  to  Heaven.  He  was 
delighted,  and  great  was  the  admiration  of  his  tribe,  when 
he  recounted  what  wonders  he  had  seen. 

Chihatenhwa  brought  his  little  Teresa  to  the  convent, 
where  we  are  told  that  she  became  a prodigy  of  piety  and 
knowledge.  When  next  the  Huron  flotilla  covered  the 
river,  the  fond  uncle,  from  afar,  pointed  out  to  the  chief 
and  warriors,  who  accompanied  him  the  “House  of  Jesus,” 
as  the  Indians  termed  the  convent.  He  hastened  to  meet 
his  niece.  Teresa  was  only  thirteen,  but  we  are  assured  she 
had  the  zeal  of  an  apostle. 

Battle-scarred  warriors  gave  willing  ear  to  her  girlish  ex- 
hortations; and,  on  returning  to  the  Huron  country,  they 
published  her  fame  to  the  whole  tribe.  “ Teresa  has  more 
sense,”  they  exclaimed,  “ than  any  one  who  has  ever  ap- 
peared in  our  country.  Doubtless,  the  one  who  has  taught 
her  is  also  the  greatest  genius  among  the  French.” 

She  was  deeply  attached  to  her  convent  home,  where  she 
remained  for  over  two  years.  When  the  day  of  separation 


488 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


came,  it  was  most  painful.  The  Jesuit  Fathers  of  the  Huron 
country  were  anxious  to  have  the  influence  of  the  pious 
young  seminarist  among  her  tribe;'  and  her  parents  could 
no  longer  endure  her  absence.  Teresa,  like  a brave  girl, 
made  the  sacrifice,  and  bade  adieu  to  her  dear  teachers. 
From  Three  Rivers,  she  wrote  to  Mother  Mary  of  the  In 
carnation: 

“My  Dear  Mother; 

‘ ‘ I am  going  to  my  distant  home.  We  are  ready  to 
start.  I thank  you  for  all  the  care  you  have  bestowed  upon 
me.  I thank  you  for  having  taught  me  to  serve  God.  Is 
it  for  a thing  of  small  value  that  I offer  you  my  thanks? 
Never  shall  I forget  you.  Teresa.”’ 

There  is,  we  fear,  many  a “ young  lady”  of  this  “en- 
lightened age”  whose  numberless  “accomplishments” 
would  scarcely  enable  her  to  write  with  the  good  sense  and 
pointed  brevity  of  this  Indian  girl  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury; and  who  could  not  truthfully  say  to  her  teachers,  “I 
thank  you  for  having  taught  me  to  serve  God.”  In  many 
institutions  of  to-day  such  a study  is  not  even  elective.  God 
is  absolutely  dismissed  from  the  curriculum,  and  Religion 
is  politely  told  to  “get  out,”  or  to  “stand  at  the  door.” 
And  what  is  more  amazing  is,  that  this  is  considered  “fash- 
ionable,” and  many  persons  who  have  never  been  confined, 
in  a lunatic  asylum  are  impressed  with  its  “respectability.” 


• One  of  the  Fathers  wrote:  ‘The  Indian  who  Is  a good  Christian,  and  reaily  zealons,  doet 
more  good  among  his  countrymen  than  three  Jesnit  missionaries.” 

> Teresa  spoke  two  langnaget  with  facility,  and  aang  in  Horon,  French  and  Latin.—  OHmpm 
*f  th4  UonatUry. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A HOLY  HEKOINE  TO  THE  LAST  GASP. 

A new  convent  erected — Pupils— Letters  of  Mother  Mary 
— What  a pan  of  coals  did— The  -jire  -fiend— Mother 
Mary  surrounded  by  flames— Her  escape— Another  con- 
vent raised  up — The  educational  programme  of  the 
time— Mother  Mary  and  her  novices— The  illustrious 
woman's  accomplishments — Her  death. 

The  conversion  of  the  Canadian  Indians,  which  Mother 
Mary  of  the  Incarnation  had  seen  prefigured  as  a Church 
just  emerging  from  clouds  and  darkness,  was  now  rapidly  pro  • 
grossing.  Whole  tribes  embraced  the  Faith,  and  the  fer- 
vor of  the  primitive  ages  was  revived. 

In  order  to  meet  the  growing  wants  of  the  colony,  a new 
convent  was  erected.  In  1642  it  was  completed,  and  Mother 
Mary  and  her  daughters  bade  adieu  to  the  little  tenement 
on  the  wharf,  and  took  up  their  quarters  in  a more  suitable 
edifice.  It  was  stately  for  the  times — built  of  dark-colored, 
roughly-shaped  blocks  of  stone.  It  was  three  stories  in 
height,  twenty-eight  feet  wide,  and  ninety-two  feet  long. 
To  the  Indians,  this  new  “House  of  Jesus”  was  a wonder, 
and  many  a long  journey  was  made  to  see  it. 

The  regular  Indian  pupils,  boarders,  who  were  fed  and 
clothed  at  the  expense  of  the  convent,  soon  amounted  to 
eighty.  But  besides  these,  the  nuns  were  daily  called  upon 
to  give  instruction  to  squaws  in  their  class-rooms,  and  to 
warriors  in  their  parlor.  This  was  a large  family  to 
attend  to,  but  the  skill,  piety,  genius,  and  wonderful  busi- 
ness capacity  of  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation  made 
her  equal  to  every  demand. 

The  letters  of  the  illustrious  woman  during  this  period 

489 


490 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


are  most  characteristic.  It  is  not  concerning  her  pupils, 
her  labors,  and  her*  wants  that  she  chiefly  entertains  her 
friends.  In  her  boundless  charity,  she  identifles  herself 
with  all  who  labor  for  the  conversion  of  the  Indians.  Her 
eagle  glance  sweeps  over  the  vast  fields  of  missionary  zeal 
from  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  to  the  Great  Lakes.  She 
numbers  the  chapels  that  are  built,  the  baptisms,  the  holy 
deaths.  Well  she  knows  all  the  roving  clans  that  come  to 
be  instructed.  And,  after  filling  ten  or  more  pages  with 
such  toj)ics,  she  adds:  “A  word  now  of  our  seminarists. 
They  give  us  every  possible  satisfaction.  Their  piety, 
their  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  their  docility,  their 
generosity  in  overcoming  their  defects — all  this  is  ravishing. 
But  it  strikes  us  less,  now  that  we  are  accustomed  to  it.” 

At  other  times  she  merely  says:  “God  has  blessed  our 
labors  this  year,  as  in  preceding  ones.  We  have  as  much 
as  we  can  do.  especially  during  the  winter  months,  when  the 
braves  leave  us  their  children  while  they  go  to  hunt.” 

Adversity,  however^  was  about  to  frown  on  this  fair  scene. 
The  year  1650,  so  fertil  in  trials  and  disasters,  was  drawing 
tc  a close  The  dim  shadows  of  a clear,  cold  December 
evening  cast  themselves  over  the  snow-white  landscape; 
and  the  beautiful  constellations  which  lighted  the  wintry 
firmament  with  splendor  were  marking  the  progress  of  the 
night  The  happy  inmates  of  the  convent  had  gone  to 
rest;  but  there  was  something  that  did  not  sleep. 

It  was  a pan  of  coals,  which  one  of  the  sisters,  charged 
with  baking,  had  placed  beneath  her  bread-trough,  well 
closed  around  with  the  napkin  that  covered  the  dough.  It 
was  not  her  custom  to  take  this  precaution  to  hasten  the 
action  of  the  yeast;  but  this  was  bread  for  New  Year’s  Day. 
It  was  her  wish  to  have  it  light.  The  coals  thus  placed  on 
mty  were  unperceived,  and,  alas  ! forgotten. 

The  fire  was  making  sad  havoc,  when  one  of  the  nuns  sud- 
denly leaped  from  her  humble  couch.  All  were  asleep. 
The  flames  were  just  bursting  through  the  door  of  the  sleep- 
ing-room, as  she  cried  out : “Up  for  your  lives,  children,  and 


‘ Her  pupils. 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


491 


fly!”  She  rushed  to  the  nuns’  dormitory,  and  gave  the 
alarm:  “Wake!  Wake!  the  house  is  on  fire.  Quick,  and 
save  the  children!  ” 

In  a moment,  one  and  all  were  aware  of  the  peril.  The 
fire  was  upon  them  on  every  side.  A nun  rushed  to  the 
bell,  to  give  warning  of  their  danger.  The  door  was 
opened,  and  the  startled  inmates  of  the  doomed  convent  be- 
gan to  pass  out.  But  the  smoke  blinded,  and  the  fiames 
flew  like  lightning  Each  sister  became  a heroine,  and  seiz- 
ing the  little  innocents  in  their  arms,  they  hurried  them 
out.  Suddenly  the  door  gave  way  but  those  brave  ladies, 
regardless  of  the  danger  of  suffocation,  dashed  through 
passage-ways,  and  hastened  with  their  precious  charges  to 
a place  of  safety. 

Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation,  chief  of  those  heroines, 
ever  calm  and  self-possessed,  did  what  she  could  to  save 
the  lives  of  her  dear  pupils  and  companions;  and  then,  with 
thoughtful  care,  she  grasped  the  papers  of  the  Community, 
and  attempted  to  carry  away  some  clothing  for  the  nuns, 
who  had  all,  in  their  night-dresses,  rushed  from  the  house 
\Nith  the  children.  She  was  alone  in  the  midst  of  the  burn- 
ing mass.  The  flames  were  consuming  the  rooms  beneath; 
the  crackle  of  the  victorious  fire  could  be  heard  overhead, 
and  was  rapidly  approaching  her  person,  when,  after  bow- 
ing to  her  crucifix,  to  signify  her  perfect  submission  to  the 
wiU  of  Grod,  she  flew  along  the  passage  of  the  dormitory 
to  a staircase — now  the  only  exit  possible.  Happih'-,  it  was 
free,  and  in  a moment  she  was  at  the  door,  where  she  met 
the  Father  Superior  of  the  Jesuits  and  all  his  household, 
who  had  hurried  to  the  rescue. 

Not  one  perished  on  that  eventful  night;  some,  it  is  true, 
were  nearly  naked,  but  all  were  saved  from  the  savage 
flames.  As  they  gazed  at  their  late  home,  they  saw  the 
flames  rising  higher  and  higher,  wreathing  their  way 
through  the  wooden  roof.  At  length,  the  heavy  timbers 
bent,  and  fell  with  a crash.  It  was  the  brightness  of  day 
at  this  sad  midnight  scene:  and  the  cold,  silent  stars 
looked  down  unmoved. 


492 


MOTHER  MART  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


"My  heart/’  wrote  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation, 
‘ preserved  its  usual  peace.  I felt  neither  grief  nor  anx 
iety,  but  united  my  will  to  His  whose  hand  has  passed 
over  us,  leaving  us  in  the  state  in  which  He  Himself  was  at 
this  season,  in  the  cave  of  Bethlehem.” 

The  Ursulines  and  their  pupils  were  fit  subjects  for  New 
Year’s  hospitality.  The  Hospital  Sisters  did  everything  to 
alleviate  the  distress  of  the  sufferers.  During  three  weeks, 
with  indefatigable  zeal,  these  "friends  in  need”  furnished 
materials,  and  aided  in  putting  together  complete  suits  of 
apparel  for  each  of  the  Ursulines.  The  two  Communities 
made  but  one;  they  sat  at  the  same  table,  and  slept  under 
the  same  roof.  Mother  Mary  and  her  religious  companions 
next  moved  to  the  house  of  Madame  de  la  Peltrie,  and  there 
remained  daring  the  building  of  another  new  convent. 

Fifteen  months  passed  away,  and  by  the  blessing  of  Provi- 
dence, and  the  energetic  mind  of  Mother  Mary  of  the  In- 
carnation, the  Ursulines  and  their  pupils  had  once  more  a 
suitable  and  substantial  residence.  It  is  the  central  building 
ol  that  pile  which  to  day  constitutes  the  Ursuline  Convent 
at  Quebec.  The  nuns  effected  their  removal  on  the  vigil  of 
Pentecost,  1652;  and  we  are  assured  that  few  baggage-' 
wagons  were  required  on  the  occasion. 

The  educational  programme  of  this  pioneer  female  academy 
of  Canada  was  most  sensible,  practical,  and  Christian.  It 
was  in  the  seventeenth  century,  we  must  remember,  and 
there  were  fewer  subjects  taught  than  at  present.  But 
what  was  done,  was  done  thoroughly.  The  pupils  were 
taught  x’eading,  grammar,  the  Christian  Religion,  Sacred 
History,  practical  arithmetic,  penmanship,  and  needlework. 
We  hear  no  mention  of  a piano,  and  the  formidable 
were  omitted;  but  it  remained  for  our  day  to  try  the  ridicu- 
lous experiment  of  studying  everything — a sure  road  to  the 
mastery  of  nothing. 

During  the  winter  of  1662,  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarna- 
tion was  surrounded  by  a class  of  novices.  These  young 
religious  were  eager  to  render  themselves  useful,  and  to 
avail  themselves  of  her  knowledge  of  the  Indian  languages. 


MOTHER  MAax  OF  THE  INCARNATION. 


493 


For  their  benefit,  and  for  the  use  of  the  other  nuns,  the 
venerable  lady  prepared  at  this  time  a catechism  in  Huron, 
three  catechisms  in  Algonquin,  and  a large  dictionary  in 
French  and  Algonquin.  After  completing  this  literary  labor 
of  love  for  the  Indian  race,  she  wrote  in  1664:  “WearestiU 
more  occupied  in  the  classes  for  the  French  children;  and 
it  is  certain  that  if  Grod  had  not  sent  the  Ursulines  to 
Canada,  they  would  be  left  to  the  most  deplorable  ignorance. 
All  the  young  girls  in  the  country  pass  through  our  hands; 
and  this  causes  piety  and  religion  to  flourish  everywhere. 
The  French  population  being  rapidly  on  the  increase,  our 
employments  must  keep  pace  with  that  increase.” 

To  the  last  day  of  her  beautiful  life,  this  heroic  woman 
was  the  great  teacher,  model,  and  mother  of  her  Community. 
She  wrote  several  text-books  in  French,  Huron,  and  Algon- 
quin. She  excelled  in  all  kinds  of  neeedlework  and  em- 
broidery, as  well  as  in  painting  and  gilding.  She  sanctified 
these  accomplishments  by  contributing  the  fruit  of  her  own 
hands  to  the  decoration  of  chapels,  churches  and  altars  all 
over  the  colony.  She  even  possessed  remarkable  skill  in 
sculpture  and  architecture,  and  patiently  instructed  the 
workmen  who  were  employed  in  decorating  the  interior  of 
the  church,  guiding  them  in  relation  to  the  proportions  of 
the  columns  and  entablature.  Not  the  minutest  detail  of 
the  art  escaped  her  eye,  so  trained  and  artistic. 

Early  in  January,  1672,  a serious  illness  threatened  the 
precious  life  of  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation.  Her 
pupils  and  her  spiritual  daughters  were  overwhelmed  with 
grief,  and  besought  Heaven  to  spare  their  beloved  friend  and 
mother.  Even  the  venerable  patient  herself  was  unable  to 
refuse  them  the  consolation  of  joining  in  their  petitions  so 
far  as  to  say:  “My  Grod,  if  I may  yet  be  of  service  to  this 
little  community,  I refuse  neither  labor  nor  fatigue.  Thy 
will  be  done.” 

“No,  my  good  Mother,”  urged  the  kind  Father  Lalle- 
ment,  S.  J.,  “you  must  join  our  petitions,  and  ask  to  re 
cover.”  The  very  soul  of  obedience,  she  did  as  com- 
manded, and  a few  weeks  more  were  obtained. 


494 


MOTHER  MART  OF  TEE  INCARNATION. 


At  length,  on  the  29th  of  April,  it  became  necessary  to 
administer  the  last  Sacraments  ; and  from  that  moment 
there  was  something  so  divine  about  Mother  Mary  of  the 
Incarnation  that  she  seemed  no  longer  of  this  earth.  Fond 
hearts  surrounded  the  dying  saint,  whose  humble  pillow 
seemed  to  be  the  very  porch  of  Paradise. 

One  of  her  old  companions  reminded  her  of  her  gifted 
son',  and  asked  a message  for  him.  Maternal  love  seemed, 
for  an  instant,  to  recall  the  venerable  lady  to  this  world, 
and  she  answered  with  emotion,  “ Tell  him  that  I bear  him 
away  with  me  in  my  heart.  In  Heaven  I will  ask  for  his 
perfect  sanctification.” 

Her  French  and  Indian  pupils  knelt  around  her  to  receive 
her  last  blessing,  and  to  look  on  that  holy  and  majestic 
countenance,  which  seemed  to  be  illumined  by  a ray  of  im- 
mortality. She  died  on  the  30th  of  April,  1672,  aged 
seventy-two  years,  thirty-three  of  which  she  had  spent  in 
Canada.’ 

> Dorn  Claude  Martin,  whehad  become  a learned  Benedictine  father.  He  wrote  a life  of  hie  Illus- 
trious mother. 

* The  cause  of  tbe  beatiflcation  of  Mother  Mary  of  the  Incarnation  is  now  in  active  progress 
at  Bodm. 


MISS  JANE  MANGE, 

FOUNDRESS  OF  THE  HOSPITAL  NUNS  OF  ST.  JOSEPH  IN  CANADA.* *• 


CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY  YEARS  OF  OUR  HEROINE. 

Birth  and  family — Her  singular  childhood — Her  charm- 
ing piety — A remarkable  vocation — Her  confessor's  op- 
position— The  Duchess  de  Bullion — De  la  Dauversiere 
— Finally  determines  to  go  to  Montreal. 

Miss  Jane  Mance,  whose  name  is  justly  famous  in  the 
early  history  of  Canada,  was  born  in  1606  at  Nogent-le-Roi, 
which  is  some  distance  from  Langres,  in  France.  She  be- 
longed to  a most  honorable  family. 

In  more  than  one  place  the  lives  of  the  Saints  display  the 
fact  that  there  are  certain  children  on  whom  God  has  partic- 
ular designs,  and  whose  spiritual  nature  becomes  singularly 
developed  even  in  their  most  tender  years.  Such  a child 
was  Jane  Mance.  At  six  or  seven  years  of  age  she  formed 
the  astonishing  resolution  of  consecrating  herself  to  God  by 
a vow  of  perpetual  chastity.  “Often,”  writes  one  of  her 
religious  companions,  “she  herself  related  to  me  this 
incident  of  her  childhood.” 

But  the  beautiful  piety  which  she  professed  was  entirely 
free  from  those  faults  but  too  common  to  devout  persons.  It 


* Chief  authorities  used:  Abb6  Faillon,  ‘Vie  de  Mile.  Mance  et  Histoire  de  rHdtel-Dien  da 
Ville  Marie  dans  I’lle  de  Montreal,  en  Canada;"  Anon.,  “Annales  on  Histoire  de  ( Institution 
des  Heiigienses  Hospitalieres  de  Saint  Joseph  sous  la  Regie  de  Saint  Angnstine;'  Abbe  Feriand. 

*•  Coure  d'Histoire  du  Canada:”  Parkman,  “ The  Jesuits  in  North  America;’  MacLeod.  ' Hislorj 
of  Devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  in  North  America;"  Charlevoix,  ‘History  and  Genera; 
Description  of  New  France;"  Laroche-Heron,  “ Les  Servanles  de  Dieu  en  Canada.” 

495 


49G 


MISS  JAm  MANGE. 


was  clothed  in  no  stiff  mannerism.  It  never  stood  in  the 
way  of  other  duties.  It  was  never  disagreeable.  The  great 
rectitude  of  the  young  girl's  soul,  the  elevation  and  no 
bility  of  her  sentiments,  and,  above  all,  the  Divine  wisdom 
by  which  she  was  guided,  made  her  learn  to  do  all  for  God 
without  in  any  way  offending  the  claims  and  courtesies  of 
the  world.  Thus  she  grew  up,  and  in  time  became  an 
accomplished  woman,  of  delicate  constitution  and  dignified, 
graceful  bearing. 

Though  leading  the  life  of  a religious  in  the  world.  Miss 
Mance  felt  no  vocation  for  the  cloister.  On  the  death  of 
her  parents,  therefore,  she  found  herself  entire  mistress  of 
her  actions.  She  placed  no  bounds  to  her  fervor  She  felt 
gradually  taking  possession  of  her  soul  a great  desire  to 
serve  Christ  and  His  Holy  Mother  in  some  barbarous 
country.  The  perusal  of  the  Jesuit  Relations  and  the  re- 
port of  Madame  de  la  Peltrie’ s labors  in  Canada  fanned  the 
flame  in  her  breast,  and  she  felt  that  she  had  now  found 
her  true  vocation.  It  was  to  go  to  the  wild  banks  of  the 
historic  St.  Lawrence. 

What  Canada  is  she  has  no  idea,  or,  at  least,  a very  con- 
fused and  indistinct  one.  Her  friends  think  it  is  a notion 
caught  from  the  perusal  of  some  traveler’s  story.  Her  con- 
fessor is  consulted.  He  has  never  heard  of  Montreal,  and 
he  treats  his  penitent  as  a visionary;  but,  as  she  persists  in 
her  notions,  he  writes  to  Paris  for  information. 

The  answers  confirm  the  purpose  of  Miss  Mance.  She 
goes  to  Paris,  is  introduced  to  the  Duchess  de  Bullion,  a 
great  friend  of  the  Montreal  Scheme.  The  vocation  is  tried, 
ascertained  and  followed.  “I  will  go,”  she  said;  “give 
me,  Madame,  a letter  to  the  Directors  of  the  Company.” 
The  pious  Duchess  gave  her  a note  to  Mr.  de  la  Dauver- 
siere,  and  a purse  of  20,000  livres  for  expenses. 

She  pursued  her  way  to  New  Rochelle,  whence  ships 
were  to  sail  for  Canada.  On  the  day  after  her  arrival  in 
that  city,  as  she  entered  the  church  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers, 
she  met  a gentleman  coming  out.  It  was  Dauversiere. 

“Then,”  says  the  Abbe  Faillon,  “these  two  persons, 


MISS  JAIVE  MAXCE. 


497 


who  had  never  seen  nor  heard  of  each  other,  were  enlight- 
ened supernaturally,  whereby  their  most  hidden  thoughts 
were  mutually  made  known.”  A long  conversation  passed 
between  them;  and  the  delights  of  this  interview  were 
never  effaced  from  the  mind  of  Miss  Mance.  “She  used  to 
speak  of  it  like  a seraph,”  writes  Sister  Mary  Morin,' 
“and  far  better  than  many  a learned  Doctor  could  have 
done.” 

In  all  probability,  she  was  warned  that  the  rude  walls  of 
Montreal  must  be  cemented  in  blood;  that  there  were  tribes 
of  hostile  savages  who  would  oppose,  perhaps  destroy,  the 
struggling  colony;  and,  finally,  that  she  would  be  all  alone 
to  care  for  the  sick  and  wounded.  But  when  these  repre- 
sentations only  increased  the  heroic  lady’s  zeal,  the  good 
old  man  blessed  God  and  bade  her  go  in  His  holy  name.' 
And  when  he  did  that,  he  laid  the  foundation  of  the  famous 
Hotel-Dieu  in  Montreal,  where  now  dozens  of  devoted  nuns 
are  consecrated  to  the  service  of  Christ  in  his  poor! 

* Sister  Morin  was  the  first  Canadian  nun  that  joined  the  Hospital  Sisters  of  St.  Joseph.  She 
entered  the  Hotel  Dieu  at  Montreal,  in  1662,  at  the  tender  age  of  thirteen  years  and  a half.  Thie 
eeintly  lady  was  the  author  of  the  AnneU  de'l  Hotel  Dieu,  and  lived  to  see  more  than  four  score 
years. 

0 She  had  found  her  destiny.  The  ocean,  the  vrildetnees,  the  solitude,  the  Iroquois—nothiac 
daunted  her.— Par  .vMW- 


CHAPTER  n. 

THE  TOWN  OF  MART. 

Montreal — Daweersi^e — The  Abhe  Olier — A msion — The 
singular  intermem  between  Olier  and  Dauversiere — 
A great  design  assumes  shape — The  memorable  cere- 
mony at  Notre  Dame  Cathedral — Glance  at  the  plan — 
Maisonneune — Miss  Mance  sails  in  the  expedition  for 
Canada — At  Quebec — Up  the  St.  Lawrence — Arrival  at 
the  site  of  Montreal — The  landing — The  first  altar — 
Mass — Father  YimonV  s address — The  birth-night  of 
Montreal. 

The  largest  city  on  the  St.  Lawrence  had  a remarkable 
origin.  The  story  of  its  early  days  has  become  a part  of 
American  history.  We  must  glance  at  it  here. 

While  Canada  was  yet  nearly  all  a wilderness,  Grod  in- 
spired a pious  layman  to  establish  a colony  in  honor  of  the 
Most  Blessed  Virgin  on  the  Island  of  Montreal.  This  was 
Jerome  le  Royer  de  la  Dauversiere,  a gentleman  of  Anjou, 
in  France. 

There  lived  at  Paris,  at  this  time,  a young  priest,  the 
Abbe  John  James  Olier,  afterwards  known  as  the  illustrious 
founder  of  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpice.  The  Almighty,  it 
seems,  inspired  him  with  a similar  design. 

Dauversiere  pondered  the  revelation  which  he  had  re- 
ceived, became  convinced  that  it  was  from  God,  and  set  out 
for  Paris  to  find  some  means  of  accomplishing  the  assigned 
task.  As  he  prayed  for  new  light  in  the  famous  Church  of 
Notre  Dame,  he  was  favored  with  a vision  in  which  Christ 
assured  him  that  he  would  not  want  for  wisdom  and  strength 
to  do  his  work.  He  was  comforted. 

From  Paris  this  good  gentleman  went  to  the  neighboring 
498 


MISS  JAWE  MANGE. 


499 


chateau  of  Meudon,  which  overlooks  the  valley  of  the 
Seine,  not  far  from  St.  Cloud.  He  entered  the  gallery  of 
the  old  castle,  and  saw  a priest  approaching  him.  It  was 
the  Abbe  Olier.  They  had  never  seen,  or  even  heard  of 
each  other;  yet,  impelled  by  a kind  of  inspiration,  they  rec- 
ognized one  another  at  once,  even  to  the  depths  of  their  hearts; 
and  saluting  each  other  by  name,  as  we  read  of  St.  Anthony 
and  St.  Paul  the  Hermit,  they  embraced  like  two  friends 
who  had  met  after  a long,  long  separation. 

“Sir,”  exclaimed  the  Abbe  Olier,  “I  know  your  design, 
and  I go  to  commend  it  to  Grod  at  the  holy  altar.” 

And  he  went  at  once  to  say  Mass  in  the  chapel.  Dauver- 
siere  received  the  Holy  Communion  at  his  hands;  and  then, 
after  thanksgiving,  they  walked  for  three  hours  in  the 
park,  discussing  their  plans.  They  were  of  one  mind  in 
respect  both  to  objects  and  means;  and  when  they  parted 
the  Abbe  Olier  gave  Dauversiere  a hundred  louis,  saying: 
“This  is  to  begin  the  work  of  God.” *  * 

The  pious  undertaking  at  once  began  to  shape  itself.  A 
Society  was  formed.  It  was  in  1636  that  the  Company  of 
Montreal  was  founded  “for  the  conversion  of  the  savages 
and  the  maintenance  of  the  Catholic  religion  in  Canada.” 
Five  priests,’  a Cardinal,’  a Duchess,  two  Dukes,  twelve 
other  nobles,"  and  a sifhple  Sister  of  Charity,  formed  the 
association;  and,  for  four  years,  they  labored  faithfully 
to  bring  their  scheme  into  successful  operation.  Their  plan 
was  this — to  build  upon  the  Island  of  Montreal  a town 
which  should  be  at  once  a home  for  the  missions,  a defense 
against  the  Indians,  a center  of  commerce  for  the  neighbor- 
ing people,  which  should  be  consecrated  to  the  Most  Holy 
Virgin,  and  be  called  Yille-Marie.” 


' Parkman.  ^ The  Abbe  Olier  was  one.  • Richelieu.  « One  of  whom  was  Danverslere. 

* The  town  of  Mary. 

Or  to  quote  the  words  of  Parkman:  “ They  proposed  to  found  at  Montreal  three  religious  com- 
munities— three  being  the  mystic  number— one  of  secular  priests  to  direct  the  colonists  and  con- 
▼ert  the  Indians,  one  of  nuns  to  nurse  the  sick,  and  one  of  nuns  to  teach  the  Faith  to  the  chil- 
dren, white  and  red.  To  borrow  their  own  phrases — they  would  plant  the  banner  of  Christ  in  an 
abode  of  desolation  and  a haunt  of  demons;  and  to  this  end  a band  of  priests  and  women  were 
to  invade  the  wilderness,  and  take  post  between  the  fangs  of  the  Iroquois.”— Jeeuitt  in 
North  America. 


600 


mss  JANE  MANGE. 


“ So,  when  all  was  ready,  on  the  morrow  of  the  Feast  of 
onr  Lady’s  Purification,  the  Associates  assembled  in  the 
Cathedral  Church  of  Notre  Dame.  The  Abbe  Olier  offered  up 
the  Holy  Sacrifice  at  the  altar  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  whereat 
all  the  laics  communicated,  while  those  of  the  Company  who 
were  priests  said  Mass  at  other  altars  with  the  same  in- 
tention, fervently  imploring  the  Queen  of  Angels  to  bless 
their  enterprise,  and  to  take  the  Island  of  Montreal  under 
her  holy  and  most  especial  protection,” 

The  collection,  after  this  ceremony,  was  200,000  francs. 

“Now,”  writes  the  non-Catholic  Parkman,  “to  look  for 
a moment  at  their  plan.  Their  eulogists  say,  and  with  per- 
fect truth,  that,  from  a worldly  point  of  view,  it  was  mere 
folly.  The  partners  mutually  bound  themselves  to  seek  no 
return  for  the  money  expended.  Their  profit  was  to  be 
reaped  in  the  skies;  and,  indeed,  there  was  none  to  be  reaped 
on  earth.  The  feeble  settlement  at  Quebec  was  at  this  time 
in  danger  of  utter  ruin,  for  the  Iroquois,  enraged  at  the 
attacks  made  on  them  by  Champlain,  had  begun  a fearful 
course  of  retaliation,  and  the  very  existence  of  the  colony 
trembled  in  the  balance. 

“But  if  Quebec  was  exposed  to  their  ferocious  inroads 
Montreal  was  incomparably  more  so.  A settlement  here 
would  be  a perilous  outpost — a hand  thrust  into  the  jaws 
of  the  tiger.  It  would  provoke  attack,  and  lie  almost  in 
the  path  of  the  war-parties.  The  Associates  could  gain 
nothing  by  the  fur-trade;  for  they  were  not  allowed  to  share 
in  it. 

“On  the  other  hand,  danger  apart,  the  place  was  an  ex- 
cellent one  for  a mission;  for  here  met  two  great  rivers — the 
St.  Lawrence,  with  its  countless  tributaries,  flowed  in  from 
the  west,  while  the  Ottawa  descended  from  the  north,  and 
Montreal,  embraced  by  their  uniting  waters,  was  the  key  to 
a vast  inland  navigation.  Thither  the  Indians  would  naturally 
resort;  and  thence  the  missionaries  could  make  their  way 
into  the  heart  of  a boundless  heathendom.  None  of  the  or- 
dinary motives  of  colonization  had  part  in  this  design.  It 
owed  its  conception  and  its  birth  to  religious  zeal  alone.” 


mss  JANE  MANCE. 


501 


Dauversiere  and  his  companions'  purchased  the  Island  of 
Montreal,  and  matured  their  glorious  undertaking.  First, 
they  would  send  out  forty  men  to  take  possession  of  the 
island,  intrench  themselves,  and  raise  crops.  Then  they 
would  build  a house  for  the  missionaries,  and  two  convents 
for  the  nuns.'  In  the  meantime,  the  Abbe  Olier  was  toil- 
ing near  Paris  to  found  the  seminary  of  priests,  and  Dau- 
versiere, at  La  Fleche,  bent  himself  to  the  work  of  form- 
ing a community  of  hospital  nuns.  How  the  school  nuns 
were  provided,  we  shall  learn  in  the  life  of  Mother  Mar- 
garet Bourgeois." 

The  Associates  needed  a soldier-governor  to  take  charge 
of  their  forty  men ; and,  no  doubt  directed  by  Providence, 
they  soon  found  a rare  man.  This  was  Paul  de  Chomedey, 
Sieur  de  Maisonneuve,  a devout  and  valiant  gentleman, 
whose  bright  sword  had  flashed  on  many  a hard- contested 
fleld,  who,  in  an  age  of  heresy,  had  kept  the  Faith  intact, 
and  whose  life  shone  like  a star  in  the  midst  of  the  un- 
bridled license  by  which  he  was  surrounded.  He  had  made  a 
vow  of  chastity.  He  loved  his  profession  of  arms,  and 
wished  to  consecrate  his  sword  to  the  Church." 

One  of  the  vessels  that  bore  this  gallant  soldier  and  his 
forty  men  had  the  honor  of  carrying  Miss  Mance  across 
the  stormy  Atlantic,  on  her  heroic  mission  of  charity.  The 
expedition  landed  at  Quebec  too  late  in  the  season  of  1641 
to  ascend  to  Montreal.  The  long  and  dreary  winter  had  to 
be  passed  at  Quebec. 

Early  in  May  Maisonneuve  and  his  followers,  accom- 
panied by  Miss  Mance,  began  to  push  their  way  up  the  St. 
Lawrence.  They  had  gained  an  unexpected  recruit  during 
the  winter  in  the  person  of  Madame  de  la  Peltrie,  the  pious 
foundress  of  the  Ursuline  Convent  at  Quebec.  This  little 
band  of  chosen  Catholics  was  to  found  the  greatest  city  in 
Canada.* * 

“On  the  17th  of  May,  1643,  Maisonneuve’s  little  flo- 

> That  is,  the  Company  of  Montreal.  “ See  p.  ® Parkman. 

* In  many  of  its  aspects  this  enterprise  of  Montreal  belonged  to  the  time  of  the  first  Cr  isade^ 
The  spirit  of  Godfrey  de  Bouillon  lived  again  in  Chomedey  de  Maisonneuve. — Parkman. 


602 


MISS  JANE  MANCE. 


tilla — a pinnace,  a flat-bottomed  craft  moved  by  sails,  and 
two  row-boats — approached  Montreal;  and  all  on  board 
raised  in  unison  a hymn  of  praise.  Montmagny'  was  with 
them,  to  deliver  the  island,  in  behalf  of  the  Company  of  the 
Hundred  Associates,  to  Maisonneuve,  representative  of  the 
Associates  of  Montreal.’  And  here,  too,  was  Father 
Vimont,  Superior  of  the  missions,  for  the  Jesuits  had  been 
prudently  invited  to  accept  the  spiritual  charge  of  the . 
young  colony 

“On  the  following  day,  they  glided  along  the  green  and 
solitary  shores,  now  thronged  with  the  life  of  a busy  city,  and 
landed  on  the  spot  which  Champlain,  thirty-one  years  be- 
fore, had  chosen  as  the  fit  site  of  a settlement  It  was  a 
tongue  or  triangle  of  land,  formed  by  the  Junction  of  a 
rivulet  with  the  St  Lawrence,  and  known  afterwards  as 
Point  Calliere.  The  rivulet  was  bordered  by  a meadow, 
and  beyond  rose  the  forest  with  its  vanguard  of  scattered 
trees.  Early  spring  flowers  were  blooming  in  the  young 
grass,  and  birds  of  varied  plumage  flitted  among  the 
boughs. 

Maisonneuve  sprang  ashore,  and  fell  on  his  knees.  His 
followers  imitated  his  example;  and  all  Joined  their  voices 
in  enthusiastic  songs  of  thanksgiving  Tents,  baggage, 
arms,  and  stores  were  landed.  An  altar  was  raised  on  a 
pleasant  spot  near  at  hand;  and  Mademoiselle  Mance.  with 
Madame  de  la  Peltrie.  aided  by  the  servant,  Charlotte  Barre, 
decorated  it  with  a taste  which  was  the  admiration  of  the 
beholders. 

“Now  all  the  company  gathered  before  the  shrine.  Here 
stood  Vimont,  in  the  rich  vestments  of  his  office.  Here 
were  the  two  ladies,  with  their  servant;  Montmagny,  no  very 
willing  spectator;  Maisonneuve,  a warlike  figure,  erect  and 
tall,  his  men  clustering  around  him— soldiers,  sailors,  arti 
sans,  and  laborers— all  alike  soldiers  at  need.  They  kneeled 

' The  Governor  of  Quebec. 

■'  In  1jG3,  the  Company  of  Montreal,  whose  only  object  was  the  conversion  of  the  savages,  re- 
signed into  the  hands  of  ihe  Priests  of  St.  Sulp^ce  all  seigneurial  rights  over  the  island,  titles 
sonfirmed  a century  later  by  ihe  British  Government  after  the  conquest  of  Canada.  And  thus 
4 IS  that  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  is  still  the  sovereign  ady  of  Montreal.— i/ocieod. 


MISS  JANE  MANGE. 


503 


In  reverent  silence  as  the  Host  was  raised  aloft,  and  when 
the  rite  was  over,  the  priest  turned  and  addressed  them: 

“‘You  are  a grain  of  mustard-seed,  that  shall  rise  and 
grow  till  its  branches  overshadow  the  earth.  You  are  few, 
but  your  work  is  the  work  of  God.  His  smile  is  on  you, 
and  your  children  shall  fiU  the  land.’ 

“The  afternoon  waned,  the  sun  sank  behind  the  western 
forest,  and  twUight  came  on.  Fire-flies  were  twinkling  over 
the  darkened  meadow.  They  caught  them,  tied  them  with 
threads  into  shining  festoons,  and  hung  them  before  the 
altar,  where  the  Host  remained  exposed.  Then  they  pitched 
their  tents,  lighted  their  bivouac  tires,  stationed  their 
guards,  and  lay  down  to  rest.  Such  was  the  birth-night  ol 
Montreal.” 


I 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  PIONEEK  HEROINE  OF  MONTREAL. 

The  first  hospital  at  Montreal — Ville-Marie’ s Guard — 
Miss  Mance's  seventeen  years'  work — Olier's  remark — 
Plenty  of  hospital  work — The  fall  on  the  ice — Loss  of 
her  arm — Voyage  to  France  in  company  with  Mar- 
garet Bourgeois — The  miraculous  cure — Madame  de 
Bullion— Departure  of  three  Hospital  Nuns  for  Canada 
— The  severe  voyage— At  Montreal — Sufferings  of  the 
nuns — The  Iroquois — A Pen  picture — A beautiful 
death. 

The  intrepid  Miss  Mance,  the  pioneer  heroine  of  Mont- 
real, now  began  her  work — a work  which  is  continued  to 
this  day,  A house  and  chapel  rose  up  swiftly,  and  on  the 
15th  of  August,  1642,  it  was  opened  to  celebrate  the  Feast 
of  the  Assumption  of  the  Most  Holy  Virgin.  As  the  col- 
ony grew,  the  number  of  its  sick  augmented.  Miss  Mance 
was  alone.  The  house  was  soon  found  too  small,  and  the 
labor  too  great  for  any  one  person,  however  zealous. 

But  let  us  glance  aside  for  a moment  at  the  brave  protect- 
ors of  Ville-Marie.  While  all  others  there  were  contrib- 
uting to  the  honor  of  their  heavenly  Patroness,  their  safety 
was  watched  over  by  the  veteran  guard  of  De  Maison- 
neuve.  This  good  commander  had  enrolled  from  among 
his  soldiers  sixty- three  volunteers,  all  specially  vovred  to 
defend  the  town  of  Our  Lady.  This  number  was  suggested 
by  the  years  of  her  blessed  life  on  earth;  and  these  hardy 
sons  of  Old  France  formed  thus,  in  the  forests  of  America, 
a sort  of  military  confraternity. 

They  met  daily  for  the  recital  of  the  Rosary.  They  wore 
the  medal  of  their  order  as  a military  decoration;  and  they 

604 


MIS8  JANE  JifANCE. 


505 


approached  the  holy  sacraments  on  all  the  feasts  of  the 
Qneen  of  Heaven.  But  it  was  just  on  this  account  that 
they  were  the  first  to  confront  the  cannon  of  the  English, 
or  to  answer  with  their  battle-cry  of  Ave  Purissima!  the 
war-whoop  of  the  fierce  Iroquois. 

Miss  Mance  shared  with  joy  the  hardships,  dangers,  and 
untold  privations  which  marked  the  beginning  of  the  new 
town  of  Ville-Marie.  During  seventeen  years  she  had  no 
one  to  aid  her,  except  four  or  five  charitable  women,  whom 
she  had  brought  from  France,  and  who  shared  with  her  the 
ceaseless  but  holy  duties  of  attending  to  the  sick  and  the 
wounded  in  the  little  hospital. 

There  was  something  about  this  admirable  lady  which 
impressed  all  with  whom  she  conversed.  Once  she  visited 
the  venerable  Olier  in  France,  and  he  is  said  to  have  re- 
marked, that  she  was  “full  of  the  light  of  God,  by  which 
she  was  surrounded  as  by  a sun.” 

“Mademoiselle  Mance,”  writes Parkman,  “found  no  lack 
of  hospital  work,  for  blood  and  blows  were  rife  at  Montreal, 
where  the  woods  were  full  of  Iroquois,  and  not  a moment 
was  without  its  peril.  Though  years  began  to  tell  upon 
her,  she  toiled  patiently  at  her  dreary  task,  till,  in  the  win- 
ter of  1657,  she  fell  on  the  ice  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  broke 
her  right  arm,  and  dislocated  the  wrist.  Bouchard,  the 
surgeon  of  Montreal,  set  the  broken  bones,  but  did  not  dis- 
cover the  dislocation.  The  arm  in  consequence  became 
totally  useless,  and  her  health  wasted  away  under  incessant 
and  violent  pain. 

“ Maisonneuve,  the  civil  and  military  chief  of  the  settle 
ment,  advised  her  to  go  to  France  for  assistance  in  the  work 
lo  which  she  was  no  longer  equal;  and  Marguerite  Bourgeois 
whose  pupils,  white  and  red,  had  greatly  multiplied,  re- 
solved to  go  with  her  for  a similar  object.*  They  set  out  in 
September,  1658,  landed  at  Eochelle,  and  went  thence  to 
Paris.  Here  they  repaired  to  the  Seminary  of  St.  Sul  pice; 
for  the  priests  of  this  community  were  joined  with  them  in 


' It  may  hew  be  observed  that  a warm  and  laatin?  friendship  united  these  two  holy  beroiaae 


606 


Mss  JAN£J  MANOR 


the  work  at  Montreal,  of  which  they  were  afterwards  to  be- 
oome  the  feudal  proprietors.  . . 

“Olier,  the  rounder  of  St.  Sulpice,  had  lately  died,  and 
the  two  pilgrims  would  fain  pay  their  homage  to  his  heart, 
which  the  priests  of  his  community  kept  as  a precious  relit 
enclosed  in  a leaden  box.  The  box  was  brought,  when  the 
thought  inspired  Mademoiselle  Mance  to  try  its  miracu 
lous  efficacy  and  invoke  the  intercession  of  the  departed 
founder  She  did  so,  touching  her  disabled  arm  gently 
with  the  leaden  casket.  Instantly  a grateful  warmth  per- 
vaded the  shriveled  limb,  and  from  that  hour  its  use  was 
restored.”  ‘ 

Her  next  care  was  to  visit  Madame  de  Bullion,  a devout 
lady  of  great  wealth,  who  was  usually  designated  at  Mont- 
real as  “the  unknown  benefactress,”  because  she  did  not 
trumpet  her  good  acts,  and  her  charities  were  the  main  stay 
of  the  feeble  colony.  This  lady  received  Miss  Mance  with 
enthusiasm,  and  gave  her  the  munificent  sum  of  22,000 
francs. 

Our  heroine  next  repaired  to  the  town  of  La  Fleche,  to 
visit  her  friend,  Dauversiere.  Miss  Mance,  as  we  have  al- 
ready learned,  was  the  pioneer  who  went  to  Montreal  to 
prepare  the  way  for  the  Hospital  Nuns,  that  for  the  last 
eighteen  years  Dauversiere  had  labored  to  form  at  La 
Fleche.  The  time  at  length  was  come.* * 

Three  of  the  Hospital  Nuns  of  St.  Joseph,  Sisters  Judith 
Moreau  de  Bresoles,  Catherine  Mace,  and  Mary  Maillet,  were 
chosen,  and  after  encountering  many  difficulties,  embarked 
with  Miss  Mance  at  Rochelle.  Margaret  Bourgeois  was  also 
on  board. 

During  the  long  and  stormy  voyage,  these  heroines  of  char- 


■ A fac-eimile  of  the  attestation  of  Miss  Mance,  written  “ with  the  fingers  once  paralyzed  and 
powerless,"  in  relation  to  this  miracle  can  be  seen  in  Abbe  Faillon’s,  •*  Vie  de  Mile.  Mance,”  p, 
Ud,  Vol.  I.  For  particulars,  proofs,  etc.,  consult  the  whole  chapter. 

• The  Hospital  Nuns  of  St  Joseph  began  at  La  Fleche  in  1636.  In  1643  they  were  approved 
by  the  Bishop  of  Angers.  Mother  de  la  Ferre,  member  of  a distinguished  family  of  Anjou,  may 
be  called  the  foundress.  This  pious  and  most  useful  institute  was  approved  by  Pope  Alexander 
VII.,  in  1666.  The  members  make  the  three  solemn  vows  of  religion,  and  live  in  cloister,  under 
flK  Rule  of  St.  Augustine. 


MISS  JANE  MANGE. 


507 


Ity  had  abundant  opportunity  to  exercise  their  zeal  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  sick.  The  filthy  and  infected  ship  was  buffeted  by 
storms  for  two  months,  and  the  woebegone  passengers  were 
wasted  by  a contagious  fever.  Nearly  all  were  attacked. 
Miss  Mance  was  reduced  to  extremity.  Eight  or  ten  died 
. and  were  dropped  overboard,  after  a prayer  from  the  two 
priests.  At  length  land  hove  in  sight;  the  piny  odors  of 
the  forest  regaled  their  languid  senses  as  they  sailed  up  the 
broad  estuary  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  anchored  under  the 
rock  of  Quebec. 

Miss  Mance  and  her  religious  companions  soon  set  out 
for  Montreal.* *  The  journey  cost  them  fifteen  days  more  of 
danger  and  hardship.  But  they  were  warmly  received;  and 
at  once  bent  themselves  to  the  grand  work  of  their  lives. 

The  poverty  of  the  nuns,  at  first,  was  almost  incredible.' 
“When  their  clothes  were  worn  out,”  says  Parkman, 
“they  were  unable  to  replace  them,  and  were  forced  to 
patch  them  with  such  material  as  came  to  hand.  Maison- 
neuve,  the  G-overnor,  and  the  pious  Madame  d’Allebout, 
being  once  on  a visit  to  the  hospital,  amused  themselves 
with  trying  to  guess  of  what  stuff  the  habits  of  the  nuns 
had  originally  been  made,  and  were  unable  to  agree  on  the 
point  in  question. 

“Their  chamber,  which  they  occupied  for  many  years, 
being  hastily  built  of  ill-seasoned  planks,  let  in  the  piercing 
cold  of  the  Canadian  winter  through  countless  cracks  and 

• Parkman. 

> Montreal  at  that  time  (1659)  is  thus  described  by  Parkman:  “ The  little  settlement  lay  before 
them,  still  gasping  betwixt  life  and  death,  in  a puny,  precarious  infancy.  Some  forty  small,  com- 
pact houses  were  ranged  parallel  to  the  river,  chiefly  along  the  line  of  what  is  now  St.  Paul's 
street.  On  the  left  there  was  a fort,  and  on  a rising  ground  at  the  right  a massive  windmill  of 
stone  enclosed  with  a wall  or  palisade  pierced  for  musketry,  and  answering  the  purpose  of  a re- 
doubt or  block-house.  Fields  studded  with  charred  and  blackened  stumps,  between  which  crops 
were  growing,  stretched  away  to  the  edges  of  the  bordering  forest,  and  the  green,  shaggy  peak 
•f  the  mountain  towered  over  all.  There  were  at  this  time  a hundred  and  sixty  men  at  Montreal, 
•bout  flfty  of  whom  had  families,  or  at  least  wives.” — The  Old  Regime  in  Canada,  p.  10 

• It  may  be  asked  “ What  had  become  of  the  donation  made  by  the  charitable  Madame 
Bullion  ?” 

“ Of  the  23,000  francs  which  she  had  received.  Mademoiselle  Mance  kept  3.000  for  immediate 
needs,  and  confldedtherestto  the  hands  of  Dauversifre,  who,  hard  pressed  by  his  creditors,  used 
It  to  pay  one  of  his  debts,  and  then,  to  his  horror,  found  himself  unable  to  replace  it."— Parit- 
•mu. 


608 


MISS  JANE  MANGE. 


chinks;  and  the  driving  snow  sifted  through  in  such  quan- 
tities that  they  were  sometimes  obliged,  the  morning  after  a 
storm,  to  remove  it  with  shovels.  Their  food  would  freeze 
on  the  table  before  them,  and  their  coarse  brown  bread  had 
to  be  thawed  on  the  hearth  before  they  could  cut  it.  These 
women  had  been  nurtured  in  ease,  if  not  in  luxury.”  This 
picture  is  drawn  by  a non-Catholic  pen. 

Nor  were  poverty,  cold,  and  hardship,  the  only  enemies 
with  which  Miss  Mance  and  her  pioneer  nuns  had  to  battle. 
There  were  other  perils.  The  terrible  Iroquois  were  always 
prowling  near;  and  even  those  gentle  ladies  were  not 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  tomahawk. 

During  summer,  a month  rarely  passed  without  a fight, 
sometimes  within  sight  of  their  windows.  A burst  of  yells 
from  the  ambushed  marksmen,  followed  by  a clatter  of  mus- 
ketry, would  announce  the  opening  of  the  fray,  and  promise 
the  nuns  addition  to  their  list  of  patients.  On  these  oc- 
casions they  bore  themselves  according  to  their  several 
natures.  Sister  Morin,  who  had  joined  their  number  three 
years  after  their  arrival,  relates  that  Sister  Bresoles  and  she 
used  to  run  to  the  belfry  and  ring  the  tocsin  to  caU  the  in- 
habitants together.* 

“From  our  high  station,”  writes  Sister  Morin,  “we  could 
sometimes  see  the  combat,  which  terrified  us  extremely,  so 
that  we  came  down  again  as  soon  as  we  could,  trembling 
with  fright,  and  thinking  that  our  last  hour  was  come. 
When  the  tocsin  sounded,  my  Sister  Maillet  would  become 
faint  with  excess  of  fear;  and  my  Sister  Mace,  as  long  as 
the  alarm  continued,  would  remain  speechless,  in  a state 
pitiable  to  see.  They  would  both  get  into  a corner  of  the 
rood-loft  before  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  so  as  to  be  prepared 
for  death;  or  else  go  into  their  cells. 

“ As  soon  as  I heard  that  the  Iroquois  were  gone,  I went 
to  tell  them,  which  comforted  them,  and  seemed  to  restore 
them  to  life.  My  Sister  Bresoles  was  stronger  and  more 
courageous;  her  terror,  which  she  could  not  help,  did  not 


* Pftrkouui. 


mss  JANE  MANCE. 


5()9 

prevent  her  from  attending  the  sick  and  receiving  the  dead 
and  wounded  who  were  brought  m.” 

And  now,  what  more  have  we  to  say  of  our  heroine,  Miss 
Mance  1 She  labored  to  the  end  at  the  work  so  dear  to  her 
heart.  She  established  the  Hotel-Dieu  of  Montreal  on  a 
firm  basis.  Each  year  added  new  luster  to  her  bright  and 
beautiful  life;  and,  finally,  the  Angel  of  Death  called  her 
away  in  June,  1673.  She  died  in  the  odor  of  sanctity. 
There  is  no  more  to  tell.  Hospital  Sisters  have  no  stories. 
Their  whole  lives  are  exquisite  praises  to  the  gracious  God, 
and  are  written  only  in  His  Book  of  Life  on  high.* * 

> Speaking  of  the  last  years  of  Miss  Mance,  the  truly  learned  Abbe  Faillon  writes;  “ H est  4 
legretter  qu’on  ne  nous  ait  conserve  ancun  detail  sur  ses  demiers  ann^es,  ni  sur  lescirconstance* 
de  sa  sainte  mort.  Tout  ce  que  nous  en  savons,  c'est  que  Dieu  acheva  de  la  sanctifier  par  de 
longues  et  continuelles  maladies;  que  cette  fiUe  admirable  edifia  toute  la  colonie  par  ses  grandet 

*8rtas,  et  qu’enfin  elle  mourut  en  odeur  de  sainute."—Tu  de  Mademoiselle  Mance,  p.  43,  Vol.  U. 

Hie  Hospital  Nuns  of  St.  Joseph  have  establishmenta  in  the  cities  of  Montreal  and  TTimsSsa, 


•> 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.  J., 

THE 

ILLUSTRIOUS  DISCOVERER  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPL* 


CHAPTER  I. 

A mother’s  teaching,  and  its  results. 

Birth — Parents — Family — Early  education— Enters  thi 
Society  of  Jesus— Lands  in  Canada— The  voyage  to 
Lake  Superior—  The  First  Church  at  Sault  Ste.  Marie 
— Hears  of  the  Mississippi  for  the  first  time — Various 
events — The  arrival  of  Jolliet. 

James  Marquette  was  born  at  the  ancestral  seat  of  his 
family,  in  the  city  of  Laon,  France,  in  the  year  1637.  The 
Marquettes  were  a noble  stock  of  high  antiquity  and  mar- 
tial spirit,  whose  members  have  constantly  figured  in  the 
dazzling  wars  of  France.  Nor  is  our  own  Republic  with- 
out its  obligations  to  the  valor  of  this  family.  Three  of  the 
Marquettes  died  here  in  the  French  army,  during  the  war 
of  the  Revolution.  The  Father  of  James  was  a worthy  rep- 
resentative of  his  ancient  honse  ; and  his  mother.  Rose  de 
la  Salle,  was  a lady  of  distinguished  piety  and  mental  cul- 
ture, and  a near  relative  of  the  Venerable  John  Baptist  de 
la  Salle,  the  world-famous  founder  of  the  Brothers  of  the 
Christian  Schools.  But  the  one  who  cast  an  undying  lustre 

■ Chief  anthorties  used:  Brancroft,  " History  of  the  United  States;”  Hart,  “History  of  the 
Discovery  of  the  ValJey  of  the  Mississippi;”  Parkman,  “The  Discovery  of  the  Great  West;” 
Sparks,  “Life  of  Marquette:”  Charlevoix,”  History  and  General  Description  of  New  France;” 
Shea,  “ The  Discovery  and  Exploration  of  the  Missisisippi;”  The  Catholic  World,  for  November, 
1877. 

£11 


,f)l2  FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE.  S.  J. 

on  his  fomily,  and  who  shines  in  history  as  the  greatest  of 
his  name,  is  the  subject  of  this  sketch. 

James  received  an  excellent  education,  his  noble  and  ac- 
complished mother  developing  in  his  character  one  of  its 
most  beautiful  traits — childlike  and  sublime  devotion  to  the 
Iicmaculate  Virgin.  In  his  seventeenth  year  he  entered  the 
Society  of  Jesus.  Fourteen  years  of  character-building — 
of  retreat,  study,  and  teaching — passed  away,  and  he  was 
invested  mth  the  sacred  dignity  of  the  priesthood.  Taking 
St.  Francis  Xavier  as  his  patron  and  model,  he  ardently 
sought  a foreign  mission  to  some  pagan  land.  Soon  his 
wish  was  gratified.  Canada  and  its  dusky  tribes  were  then 
attracting  much  attention  in  France.  Wonderful  were  th> 
stories  told  of  the  River  St.  Lawrence,  and  the  chain  oC 
majestic  lakes,  stretching  far  away  into  the  unknown  inte- 
rior, and  whose  shores  were  crowded  with  Indian  warriors 
of  savage  aspect,  harsh  languages,  and  barbarous  customs. 

Father  Marquette  landed  at  Quebec  in  September,  1666, 
buoyant  with  life  and  health.  At  Three  Rivers  and  vicin- 
ity, he  passed  eighteen  months  in  the  study  of  the  Huron 
and  Algonquin  languages;  and  as  he  had  a remarkable  fa- 
cility in  the  acquisit  ion  of  languages,  he  soon  mastered 
many  a forest  dialect.  There  was  some  general  resemblance 
in  the  speech  of  all  the  tribes  bordering  on  the  St.  Law- 
rence. 

In  1668  the  future  Discoverer  of  the  Mississippi  was  ap- 
pointed to  the  Lake  Superior  missions,  nearly  two  thou- 
sand miles  away,  and  on  the  21st  of  April  he  bade  adieu  to 
Quebec.  The  first  stopping- place  on  the  vast  journey  was 
Montreal,  one  hundred  and  eighty  miles  up  the  river.  This 
part  of  the  voyage  was  made  in  a birch-bark  canoe,  with 
three  boatmen  to  aid  the  priest  in  paddling  it  against  the 
stream.  The  frail  craft  proceeded  at  the  rate  of  about  thirty 
miles  a day;  and  when  night  came  on  Father  Marquette 
and  his  companions  stretched  their  weary  limbs  on  the 
banks  of  the  lordly  river  Sometimes  they  halted  at  an  In 
dian  village;  at  other  times  they  encamped  in  the  forest, 
with  naught  save  the  blue  sky  to  shield  them,  the  night 


FATUm  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.  J. 


5U 

wind  lulling  tlie  lone  travelers  to  sleep,  as  it  sighed 
through  the  leafless  branches,  which  the  slowly-returning 
sun  of  spring  had  scarcely  yet  caused  to  bud. 

The  Montreal  of  that  day  was  very  different  from  the 
beautiful  and  stately  city  which  now  stands  at  the  head  of 
ship  navigation  on  the  St.  Lawrence.  It  was  merely  a lit- 
tle fort,  with  a few  cabins  and  wigwams.  After  a short 
stay  at  this  point,  waiting  for  a suitable  guide  to  traverse 
the  hundreds  of  miles  of  pathless  wilderness  yet  to  come,  a 
party  of  Indians  from  Lake  Superior  came  down  the  river  in 
their  canoes.  Father  Marquette  embarked  with  them  on 
their  return  trip. 

The  red  navigators  and  their  apostolic  companion  poiL 
died  up  the  turbid  Ottawa,  a distance  of  nearly  four  hun- 
dred miles.  * Thence,  by  a chain  of  narrow  streams  and  small 
lakes,  they  entered  Lake  Nipissing.  Then,  paddling  down 
the  rapid  course  of  the  French  river,  through  cheerless  soli- 
tudes eighty  miles  in  extent,  the  little  fleet  Anally  entered 
the  well-known  Georgian  Bay.  Nor  was  this  the  end.  Cross- 
ing this  vast  sheet  of  water,  they  beheld,  opening  before 
them,  the  seemingly  boundless  expanse  of  Lake  Huron.  They 
skirted  along  the  wild  northern  shores  of  this  inland  sea 
until  they  reached  Sault  Ste.  Marie,  which  marlts  the  out- 
let of  Lake  Superior  into  Lake  Huron. 

Here  Father  Marquette  founded  the  famous  mission  of 
Sault  Sainte  Marie;  and,  planting  his  cabin  at  the  foot  of 
the  Rapids,  on  the  American  side,  he  began  his  heroic  and 
apostolic  career  in  the  great  West.  He  toiled,  instructed, 
and  built  a church;  but  a missionary  was  urgently  needed 
for  Lapointe,  and  to  “that  ungrateful  field,”  Marquette  with 
joy  bent  his  steps.  Here,  truly,  it  was  up-hill  work.  The 
Ottawas  and  Hurons,  among  whom  he  was  now  stationed,  wers 
fearfully  corrupt.  As  he  himself  testifies,  in  a letter  to  his 

* The  Ottawa  rises  one  hundred  miles  above  Lake  Temiscamingue,  and  flows  to  the  foot  of  the 
Island  of  Montreal,  a distance  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  miles.  There  are  numerous  rapids  and 
falls  in  the  river,  and  the  scenery  is  striking  and  beautiful.  The  Ottawa  falls  into  the  St.  Law- 
rence by  a three-fold  branch.  The  main  stream,  to  the  north,  is  dirided  by  Isle  Jesus  ; its  south- 
ern branch  by  Isle  Perrot.  Between  the  Isles  Perrot  and  Montreal  occur  the  rapids  of  Ste.  Ana* 
t*  which  Moore  refers  m his  “ Canadian  Boat-song.  "—Lovell's  General  Geography. 


514 


FATBU'R  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S J. 


Superior,  dated  1669,  they  were  “far  from  the  kingdom  of 
God,  being  above  all  other  nations  addicted  to  lewdness, 
sacrifices,  and  juggleries.” 

In  the  letter  just  quoted.  Father  Marquette  for  the  first 
time  mentions  the  Mississippi.  He  says:  ‘ ‘When  the  Illinois  ’ 
come  to  Lapointe  they  pass  a large  river,  almost  a league 
wide.  Jt  runs  north  and  south,  a,nd  so  far  that  the  Illinois, 
who  do  not  know  what  canoes  are,  have  never  yet  heard  of 
its  mouth.  . . This  great  river  can  hardly  empty  in  Vir- 

ginia, and  we  rather  believe  that  its  mouth  is  in  California. 
If  the  Indians  who  promise  to  make  me  a canoe  do  not  fail 
to  keep  their  word,  we  shall  go  into  this  river  as  soon  as  w© 
can  with  a Frenchman  and  this  young  man,"  given  me,  w^' 
knows  some  of  the  languages;  we  shall  visit  the  nation® 
which  inhabit  it,  in  order  to  open  the  way  to  so  many  of 
our  Fathers  who  have  long  awaited  this  happiness.  This 
discovery  will  also  give  us  a complete  knowledge  of  the 
southern  and  western  sea.” 

The  clouds  of  war,  however,  were  gloomily  overshadow- 
ing Lapointe.  Provoked  by  the  Huions  and  Ottawas,  the 
fierce  Sioux  sw^ooped  down  on  their  villages  and  obliged 
them  to  fly.  Father  Marquette  followed  his  fleeing  Hurons 
to  Mackinaw,  founded  the  mission  of  St.  Ignatius  there, 
and  built  a chapel  in  1671.  This  rude  log  church  was  the 
first  sylvan  shrine  raised  by  Catholicity  at  Mackinaw, 

The  star  of  hope  which  lit  up  his  fancied  pathway  to  the 
“Father  of  Waters,”  now  grew  dim,  and  at  last  faded  al- 
most out  of  view.  Still  he  hoped  against  hope,  labored 
among  his  Indians,  and  fervently  piayed  to  the  Most 
Blessed  Virgin  to  obtain  for  him  the  privilege  of  discover- 
ing the  great  river,  and  of  spreading  the  light  of  the  Gospel 
among  the  dusky  inhabitants  of  its  banks. 

Two  years  passed  away;  and  one  day,  late  in  the  fall  of 
1673,  a canoe  approached  Mackinaw,  and  landed.  It  con 
tained  Mr.  Jolliet,  a French  Canadian  gentleman  of  learn- 


- An  Indian  tribe  from  whom  the  State  of  Illinois  denves  its  name. 
’ A young  Ottawa  Indian. 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  8.  J.  *515 

ing  and  experience,  who  had  orders  from  the  Count  de 
Frontenac,  Governor  of  Canada,  to  go  on  the  discovery  of 
the  Mississippi,  taking  Father  Marquette  as  his  companion 
and  guide. 

JoUiet  was  admirably  qualified  for  such  a responsible  en- 
terprise. He  was  an  earnest  Catholic,  a man  of  deep  relig- 
ious convictions,  had  spent  several  years  among  the  Indians, 
was  very  courteous  in  all  his  intercourse  with  them,  was 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  their  customs,  and  spoke  several 
Indian  languages.  Besides,  he  was  a person  of  undaunted 
courage. 

Father  Marquette  was  more  than  delighted.  “The  Day 
of  the  Immaculate  Conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,”  he 
writes,  “whom  I had  always  invoked  since  I have  been  in 
the  Ottawa  country,  to  obtain  of  God  the  graces  to  be  able 
to  visit  the  nations  on  the  Mississippi,  was  identically  that 
on  which  Mr.  Jolliet  arrived. 

“I  was  the  more  enraptured  at  this  good  news  as  I saw 
my  designs  on  the  point  of  being  accomplished,  and  myself 
in  the  happy  necessity  of  exposing  my  life  for  the  salva- 
tion of  all  these  nations.  Our  joy  at  being  chosen  for  this 
enterprise  sweetened  the  labor  of  paddling  from  morning 
till  night.  As  we  were  going  to  seek  unknown  countries 
we  took  all  possible  precautions,  that  if  our  interprise  was 
hazardous  it  should  not  be  foolhardy.  For  this  reason  we 
gathered  all  possible  information  from  the  Indians  who 
had  frequented  those  parts.  We  even  traced  a map  of  all 
the  new  country,  marking  down  the  rivers  on  which  we 
were  to  sail,  the  names  of  the  nations  through  which  we 
were  to  pass,  and  the  course  of  the  great  river.” 


CHAPTER  n. 

HOW  THE  MISSISSIPPI  WaS  OlSCOVETUSD. 

The  final  'preparations — First  part  of  the  pathway — Joy 
at  entering  the  Mississippi — The  eventful  royage  down 
the  mighty  stream — Halting  at  the  Arkansas — Th% 
return. 

On  the  17th  of  May,  Father  Marquette,  Mr.  JoUiet,  and 
five  men  set  forth  in  two  birch-bark  canoes  in  search  of  the 
great  Mississippi.  They  took  with  them  some  Indian  corn 
and  jerked  meat;  but  they  were  to  live  mainly  upon  such 
food  as  could  be  obtained  by  the  way.  Their  nimble  pad- 
dles cut  the  bright  surface  of  Lake  Michigan,  and  soon 
Green  Bay  was  reached.  Here,  writes  Father  Marquette, 
“I  put  our  voyage  under  the  protection  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin  Immaculate,  promising  her  that  if  she  did  us  the 
grace  to  discover  the  great  river,  I would  give  it  the  name  of 
Conception.” 

The  little  band  of  hardy  explorers  now  proceeded  up  the 
Fox  river,  a shallow  stream  which  flows  into  Green  Bay. 
They  made  about  thirty  miles  a day.  Each  night  they 
selected  some  suitable  spot  for  encampment.  Upon  a dry 
and  grassy  mound  they  could  speedily,  with  their  sharp 
axes,  construct  a hut  which  would  protect  them  from  the 
weather.  Carefully  smoothing  down  the  floor,  they  spread 
over  it  their  ample  couch  of  furs.  Fish  could  be  taken  in 
abundance.  The  forest  was  filled  with  game.  An  immense 
lire,  blazing  before  the  open  side  of  the  hut,  gave  wannth, 
and  illumined  the  wild  scene  with  almost  the  brilliancy  of 
noonday.  There  the  travelers  joyously  cooked  their  sup- 
pers, and  ate  the  well-earned  meal  with  appetites  which 
rendered  the  feast  more  luxurious  to  them  than  any 

r>16 


FATHER  MARQUETTE  AND  JOLLIET  DISCOVER  THE  MISSISSIPPI 


FATBER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.J. 


51T 


gourmand  at  Delmonico’s  probably  ever  enjoyed.  Night 
prayers  closed  the  day  of  toil,  and  after  a blessing  called 
down  from  Heaven  by  Father  Marquette,  all  sank  to  repose. 

After  following  the  Fox  River  for  many  a league,  it  brought 
them  at  last  to  the  portage  ; where,  after  carrying  their 
canoes  a mile  and  a half  over  the  prairie  and  through  the 
marsh,  they  launched  them  on  the  Wisconsin,  bade  fare- 
well to  the  waters  that  flowed  to  the  St.  Lawrence,  and 
committed  themselves  to  the  current  that  was  to  bear  them 
they  knew  not  whither — perhaps  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
perhaps  to  the  Paciflc  Ocean.  After  sailing  down  the  Wis- 
consin, they  glided  into  the  long-desired  Mississippi,  which, 
says  Father  Marquette,  “we  safely  entered  on  the  17th  of 
June,  with  a joy  that  I cannot  express.” 

The  following  description  of  this  first  and  most  famous 
voyage  down  the  Mississippi  is  taken  chiefly  from  Park- 
man’s  “Discovery  of  the  Great  West,”  and  Marquette’s 
own  “Narrative.”*  Turning  southward,  they  began  pad- 
dling down  the  mighty  stream,  through  a solitude  unre- 
lieved by  the  faintest  trace  of  man.  A large  fish,  seem- 
ingly one  of  the  large  cat-tish  of  the  Mississippi,  blundered 
against  the  priest’s  canoe  with  a force  which  seems  to  have 
startled  him;  and  once,  as  they  drew  in  their  net,  they 
caught  a “spade-fish,”  whose  eccentric  appearance  greatly 
astonished  them 

At  length  the  buffalo  began  to  appear,  grazing  in  herds 
on  the  great  prairies  which  then  bordered  the  river,  and 
Father  Marquette  decribes  the  fierce  and  stupid  look  of 
the  old  buUs,  as  they  stared  at  the  intruders  through  the 
tangled  mane  which  nearly  blinded  them. 

They  advanced  with  extreme  caution,  landed  at  night 
and  made  a fire  to  cook  their  evening  meal;  then  extin- 
guished it,  embarked  again,  paddled  some  way  farther, 
and  anchored  in  the  stream,  keeping  a man  on  watch  till 
morning.  They  had  journeyed  more  than  a fortnight  with- 
out meeting  a human  being,  when,  on  the  25th,  they  dis- 


• To  be  fotmd  in  Shea’s  “ Discovery  and  Exploration  of  the  Mississippi. 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.  J. 

covered  foot- prints  of  men  in  the  mud  of  the  western  bank, 
and  a well  trodden  path  that  led  to  the  adjacent  prairie. 

Father  Marquette  and  Mr.  Jolliet  resolved  to  follow  this 
path,  and  leaving  the  canoes  in  charge  of  their  men,  the 
two  set  out  on  their  hazardous  adventure.  The  day  was 
fair,  and  they  walked  two  leagues  in  silence,  following  the 
path  through  the  forest  and  across  the  sunny  prairie,  till 
they  discovered  an  Indian  village  on  the  banks  of  a river, 
and  two  others  on  a hiU  half  a league  distant.  Now,  with 
beating  hearts,  they  invoked  the  aid  of  Heaven,  and  again 
advancing,  came  so  near  without  being  seen  that  they  could 
hear  the  voices  of  the  savages  among  the  wigwams. 

Then  the  Jesuit  and  his  companion  stood  forth  in  full 
view,  and  shouted,  to  attract  attention.  There  was  a great 
commotion  in  the  village.  The  inmates  swarmed  out  of 
their  huts,  and  four  of  their  chief  men  presently  came  for- 
ward to  meet  the  strangers,  advancing  very  deliberately, 
and  holding  up  towards  the  sun  two  calumets,  or  peace- 
pipes,  decorated  wdth  feathers.  They  stopped  abruptly  be- 
fore the  two  Frenchmen,  and  stood  gazing  at  them  with  at- 
tention, but  without  speaking  a word. 

Father  Marquette  was  much  relieved  on  seeing  that  they 
wore  French  cloth,  whence  he  judged  that  they  must  be 
friends  and  allies.  He  broke  the  silence,  and  asked  them 
who  they  were,  w’hereupon  they  answered  that  they  were 
Hhnois,  and  offered  the  pipe,  which  having  been  duly 
smoked,  they  all  went  together  to  the  village. 

Here  the  chief  received  the  travellers  after  a singular 
fashion,  meant  to  do  them  great  honor.  He  stood  stark 
naked  at  the  door  of  a large  wigwam,  holding  up  both 
hands,  as  if  to  shield  his  eyes.  “Frenchmen,”  he  ex- 
claimed, “how  bright  the  sun  shines  when  you  come  to 
visit  us  ! All  our  village  awaits  you;  and  you  shall  enter 
our  wigwams  in  peace.”  He  then  led  them  into  his  own, 
which  was  crowded  to  suffocation  with  savages,  staring  at 
their  guests  in  silence. 

Having  smoked  with  the  chiefs  and  old  men,  the  two 
Itrangers  were  invited  to  visit  the  great  chief  of  all  the  II- 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.  J.  519 

Unois,  at  one  of  the  villages  they  had  seen  in  the  distance ; 
and  thither  they  proceeded,  followed  by  a throng  of  war- 
riors, squaws,  and  children.  On  arriving,  they  were  forced 
to  smoke  again,  and  listen  to  a speech  of  welcome  from  the 
great  chief,  who  delivered  it  standing  between  tw'o  old  men, 
naked  like  himself. 

His  lodge  was  crowded  with  the  dignitaries  of  the  tribe, 
whom  Father  Marquette  addressed  in  Algonquin,  announc- 
ing himself  as  a messenger  sent  by  the  God  who  had  made 
them;  and  whom  it  behooved  them  to  recognize  and  obey. 
He  added  a few  words  touching  the  power  and  glory  of 
the  Count  de  Frontenac,  and  concluded  by  asking  informa- 
tion concerning  the  Mississippi  and  the  tribes  along  ita 
banks,  whom  he  was  on  his  way  to  visit. 

The  chief  replied  with  a speech  of  compliment — assur- 
ing his  guests  that  their  presence  added  flavor  to  his  to- 
bacco, made  the  river  more  calm,  the  sky  more  serene,  and 
the  earth  more  beautiful.  In  conclusion  he  gave  them  an 
all-mysterious  calumet,  begging  them  a.t  the  same  time  to 
abandon  their  purpose  of  descending  the  Mississippi. 

Father  Marquette  describes  this  calumet  as  “made  of 
polished  red-stone,  like  marble,  so  pierced  that  one  end 
serves  to  hold  the  tobacco,  while  the  other  is  fastened  on  the 
stem,  which  is  a stick  two  feet  long,  as  thick  as  a common 
cane,  and  pierced  in  the  middle.  It  is  ornaniented  with 
the  head  and  neck  of  different  birds  of  beautiful  plumage; 
they  also  add  large  feathers  of  green,  red,  and  other  colors, 
with  which  it  is  all  covered.” 

The  harangue  and  presentation  of  the  calumet  was  fol- 
lowed by  a great  feast  of  four  courses.  Father  Marquette, 
as  one  of  the  guests,  has  left  a most  graphic  description  of 
the  ceremony.  “This  council,”  he  says,  “was  followed 
by  a great  feast  that  consisted  of  four  courses,  which  we  had 
to  take  with  all  their  ways.  The  first  course  was  a great 
wooden  dish  of  saganimity — Indian  meal  boiled  in  water, 
and  seasoned  with  grease.  The  master  of  ceremonies,  with 
a spoonful  of  saganimity,  presented  it  three  or  four  times  to 
my  mouth,  as  we  would  do  with  a little  child.  He  did  the 


(BO  FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.  J. 

same  to  Mr.  Jolliet.  For  a second  course  he  brought  in  a 
second  dish  containing  three  fish;  he  took  some  pains  to  re- 
move the  bones,  and  having  blown  upon  it  to  cool  it,  put  it 
in  my  mouth,  as  we  would  food  to  a bird.  For  the  third 
course,  they  produced  a large  dog  which  they  had  jusi 
killed,  but  learning  that  we  did  not  eat  it,  it  was  with- 
drawn. Finally,  the  fourth  course  was  a piece  of  wild  ox, 
the  fattest  portions  of  which  were  put  into  our  mouths.” 

This  concluded  the  entertainment.  The  crowd  having  dis- 
persed, buffalo-robes  were  spread  on  the  ground,  and  Father 
Marquette  and  Mr.  J olliet  spent  the  night  on  the  scene  of 
the  late  festivity.  In  the  morning  the  chief,  with  some  six 
hundred  of  his  warriors,  escorted  them  to  their  canoes,  and 
bade  them,  after  their  stolid  fashion,  a friendly  farewell. 

Again  the  travelers  were  on  their  way,  slowly  drifting 
down  the  great  river.  They  passed  the  mouth  of  the  Illi- 
nois, and  glided  beneath  that  line  of  rocks  on  the  eastern 
side,  cut  into  fantastic  forms,  and  marked  as  ‘*The  Ruined 
Castles”  on  some  of  the  early  French  maps.  Presently 
they  beheld  a sight  which  reminded  them  that  the  devil 
was  still  lord  paramount  of  this  wilderness. 

On  the  flat  face  of  a high  rock  were  painted  in  red,  black 
and  green  'a  pair  of  monsters — each,  says  Father  Marquette, 
“as  large  as  a calf,  Avith  horns  like  a deer,  red  eyes,  a beard 
like  a tiger,  and  a frightful  expression  of  countenance.  The 
face  is  something  like  that  of  a man,  the  body  covered  with 
scales ; and  the  tail  so  long  that  it  passes  entirely  around 
the  body,  over  the  head  and  between  the  legs,  ending  like 
that  of  a fish.”  Such  were  the  Indian  gods,  adored  two 
centuries  ago  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi.  * 

As  they  plied  their  paddles,  talking  of  the  frightful-look- 
ing figures  on  the  rock,  they  were  suddenly  aroused  by  a 


^ The  rock  where  these  figures  were  painted  is  immediately  above  the  city  of  Alton.  The  tra- 
dition  of  their  existence  remains,  though  they  are  entirely  effaced  by  time.  In  1867,  when  I 
passed  the  place,  a part  of  the  rock  had  been  carried  away,  and  instead  of  Marquette's  mon> 
Iters,  it  bore  a huge  advertisement  of  “ Plantation  Bitters.”  Some  years  ago,  certain  persons, 
with  more  zeal  than  knowledge,  proposed  to  restore  the  figures,  after  coficeptions  of  their  owm; 
bat  the  idea  was  abandoned.  Marquette  made  a drawing  of  the  two  monsters,  but  it  is  loiL*^ 
Workman,  “ TAi Discovery  qftfu  Great  West'' 


FATHER  JAMES  MARqUETTE,  S.  J. 


m 


real  danger.  A torrent  of  mud  rushed  furiously  across  the 
calm  blue  current  of  the  Mississippi;  boiling  and  surging, 
and  sweeping  in  its  course  logs,  branches,  and  uprooted 
trees.  They  had  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Missouri,  where 
that  savage  river,  descending  from  its  mad  career,  through 
a vast  unknown  of  barbarism,  poured  its  turbid  floods  into 
the  bosom  of  its  gentle  sister. 

Their  light  canoes  whirled  on  the  miry  vorteic,  like  dry 
leaves  on  an  angry  brook.  “I  never,”  writes  Father  Mar- 
quette, “saw  anything  more  terrific;”  but  the  haray 
eoyagers  escaped  with  their  fright,  and  held  their  way 
down  the  turbulent  and  swollen  current  of  the  now  united 
rivers. 

They  passed  the  lonely  forest  that  covered  the  site  of  the 
destined  city  of  St.  Louis,  and  a few  days  later  saw  on  their 
left  the  mouth  of  the  stream  to  which  the  Iroquois  had 
given  the  weU-merited  name  of  Ohio,  or  the  “Beautiful 
River.” 

Soon  they  began  to  see  the  marshy  shores  buried  in  a dense 
growth  of  the  cane,  with  its  tall,  straight  stems  and  feath- 
ery light-green  foliage.  The  sun  glowed  through  the  hazy 
air  with  a languid,  stifling  heat,  and  by  day  3.nd  night, 
mosquitoes  in  myriads  left  them  no  peace.  They  floated 
down  the  current,  crouched  in  the  shade  of  the  sails  which 
they  had  spread  as  awnings,  when  suddenly  they  saw  In- 
dians on  the  east  bank. 

The  surprise  was  mutual,  and  each  party,  it  seems,  was 
about  as  much  frightened  as  the  other.  Father  Marquette, 
however,  hastened  to  display  the  calumet  which  the  Illi 
nois  had  given  him  by  way  of  passport;  and  the  savages, 
recognizing  the  pacific  symbol,  replied  with  an  invitation  tc 
land. 

“Men,”  says  Father  Marquette,  “do  not  pay  to  the 
crowns  and  scepters  of  kings  the  honor  they  (the  Indians) 
pay  to  the  calumet;  it  seems  to  be  the  god  of  peace  and 
war,  the  arbiter  of  life  and  death.  Carry  it  about  you  ana 
show  it,  and  you  can  march  fearlessly  amid  enemies,  who 
even  in  the  heat  of  battle  lay  down  their  arms  when  it  ia 


523 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  3.  J. 


shown.  They  use  it  for  settling  disputes,  strengthening  al- 
liances, and  speaking  to  strangers.” 

Evidently  those  Indians  were  in  communication  with  Euro- 
peans, for  they  were  armed  with  guns,  knives  and  hatchets, 
wore  garments  of  cloth,  and  carried  their  gunpowder  in 
small  bottles  of  thick  glass.  They  feasted  the  priest  and 
his  companions  with  buffalo-meat,  bear’s  oil,  and  white 
plums;  and  gave  them  a variety  of  doubtful  information, 
including  the  agreeable  but  delusive  assurance  that  they 
would  reach  the  mouth  of  the  river  in  ten  days.  It  was 
still,  in  fact,  more  than  a thousand  miles  distant. 

The  voyagers  held  on  their  course,  and  again  floated  down 
the  endless  monotony  of  river,  marsh,  and  forest.  Day 
after  day  passed  on  in  its  solitude,  and  they  had  paddled 
some  three  hundred  miles  since  their  last  meeting  with  the 
Indians,  when,  as  they  neared  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas, 
they  saw  a cluster  of  wigwams  on  the  west  bank.  Their 
dusky  inmates  were  all  astir,  yelling  the  war-whoop, 
snatching  their  weapons,  and  running  to  the  shore  to  meet 
the  strangers,  who  on  their  part  did  not  fail  to  ask  Heaven 
for  assistance.' 

It  was,  in  truth,  a moment  of  peril.  Several  large  wooden 
canoes,  filled  with  savages,  were  putting  out  from  the  shore 
above  and  below  them,  to  cut  off  their  retreat,  while  a swarm 
of  headlong  young  warriors  waded  into  the  water  to  attack 
them.  The  current  proved  too  strong;  and,  failing  to  reach 
the  canoes  of  the  Frenchmen,  one  of  them  threw  his  war- 
club,  which  flew  over  the  heads  of  the  startled  tra’^elers. 

Meanwhile  Father  Marquette  had  not  ceased  to  hold  up 
his  calumet,  to  which  the  excited  crowd  gave  ao  heed,  but 
strung  their  bows  and  notched  their  arrows  for  immediate 
action;  but  when  at  length  the  elders  of  the  village  arrived, 
they  saw  the  peace-pipe,  and  restraining  the  ardor  of  the 
youth,  they  invited  the  strangers  to  come  ashore.  The 
priest  and  his  companions,  with  some  fear,  complied,  and 


> Father  Marquette  says  that  he  implored  the  aid  of  “ our  Patror.eaa  and  guide,  th-  Slewed 
Virgin  Immaculate.  And  indeed,”  he  adds,  ‘‘we  needed  her  aid  for  .*«  heard  fron  *fw  Um 
Uidlaiis  excitinK  aoe  another  to  the  combat  by  continual  yell*.” 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  8.  J.  623 

found  a better  reception  than  they  had  reason  to  expect. 
One  of  the  Indians  spoke  a little  Illinois,  and  served  as  in- 
terpreter.* * A friendly  conference’  was  followed  by  a feast 
of  sagamite  and  fish ; and  the  travellers,  not,  however,  with- 
out sore  misgivings,  spent  the  night  in  the  lodges  of  their 
dusky  entertainers. 

Early  in  the  morning  they  embarked  again,  and  proceeded 
to  a village  of  the  Arkansas  tribe,  about  eight  leagues  below. 
Ifotice  of  their  coming  was  sent  before  them  by  their  late 
hosts  ; and,  as  they  drew  near,  they  were  met  by  a canoe, 
in  the  prow  of  which  stood  a naked  personage,  holding  a 
calumet,  singing,  and  making  gestures  of  friendship. 

On  reaching  the  village,  which  was  on  the  east  side,  oppo- 
site the  mouth  of  the  River  Arkansas,  they  were  conducted  to 
a sort  of  scaffold  before  the  lodge  of  the  war-chief.  The  space 
beneath  had  been  prepared  for  their  reception,  the  ground 
being  neatly  covered  with  rush  mats.  On  these  they  were 
seated  ; the  warriors  sat  around  them  in  a semicircle  ; then 
the  elders  of  the  tribe,  then  the  promiscuous  crowd  of  vil- 
lagers, standing  and  staring  over  the  heads  of  the  more  dig- 
nified members  of  the  assembly. 

All  the  men  were  naked ; but,  no  doubt  to  compensate 
for  the  lack  of  clothing,  they  wore  strings  of  beads  in  their 
noses  and  ears.  The  women  were  clothed  in  shabby  skins, 
and  wore  their  hair  clumped  in  a mass  behind  each  ear.  By 
good  luck,  there  was  a young  Indian  in  the  village  who 
had  an  excellent  knowledge  of  Illinois  ; and  through  him 
Father  Marquette  endeavored  to  explain  the  mysteries  of 
Christianity,  and  to  gain  information  concerning  the  river 
below.’ 

To  this  end  the  illustrious  missionary  gave  his  rude  audi- 


• Father  Harqaette  had  addressed  them  in  gix  Indian  langnagee,  none  of  which  they  nnder- 
■tood. 

’ •'  They  perfectly  understood  onr  meaning,”  writes  Father  Marquette,  “ but  I know  not 
whether  they  understood  what  I told  them  of  God,  and  the  things  which  concerned  their  salva- 
tion. It  is  a seed  cast  in  the  earth,  which  will  bear  its  fruit  in  season.”  Truly  prophetic  words  I 

* •'  Through  him,”  writes  Father  Marquette,  “I  first  spoke  to  the  assembly  by  the  ordinary  pres- 
ents. They  admired  what  I told  them  of  God  and  the  mysteries  of  Our  Holy  Faith,  and  showed 
a great  desire  to  keep  me  with  them  to  instruct  them.” 


624  FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  'S.  J. 

tors  the  presents  indispensable  on  such  occasions,  but  re- 
ceived very  little  in  return.  They  told  him  that  the  Missis- 
sippi was  infested  by  hostile  Indians,  armed  with  guns  pro- 
cured from  white  men;  and  that  they — the  Arkansas — stood 
in  such  fear  of  them  that  they  dared  not  hunt  the  buffalo, 
but  were  forced  to  live  on  Indian  corn,  of  which  they  raised 
three  crops  a year. 

During  the  speeches  on  each  side,  food  was  brought  ir 
without  ceasing.  Sometimes  it  was  a platter  of  sagamite  or 
mush;  sometimes  it  was  corn  boiled  whole;  and  sometimes 
it  was  their  choicest  dish — a roasted  dog.  The  villagers 
had  large  earthen  pots  and  platters,  made  by  themselves  with 
tolerable  skill ; they  had  also  hatchets,  knives,  and  beads, 
gained  by  traffic  with  the  Illinois  anu  other  tribes  in  con- 
tact with  the  French  and  Spaniards. 

All  day  there  was  feasting  without  respite,  after  the  mer- 
ciless practice  of  Indian  hospitality;  but  at  night  some  of 
their  dusky  entertainers  proposed  to  kill  and  plunder  them 
— a base  scheme,  which  was  defeated  by  the  vigilance  of  the 
chief,  who  visited  their  quarters,  and  danced  the  calumet 
dance  to  reassure  his  guests. 

Father  Marquette  and  his  companions  now  held  counsel 
as  to  what  course  they  should  take.  They  had  gone  far 
enough,  as  they  thought,  to  establish  one  important  point — 
that  the  Mississippi  discharged  its  waters,  not  into  the  At- 
lantic, nor  into  the  Gulf  of  California,  but  into  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  They  thought  themselves  nearer  to  its  mouth  than 
they  actually  were — the  distance  being  stiU  about  seven 
hundred  miles;  and  they  feared  that  if  they  went  farther, 
they  might  be  killed  by  Indians  or  captured  by  Spaniards, 
whereby  the  results  of  their  discovery  would  be  lost. 
Therefore  they  resolved  to  return  to  Canada,  and  report 
what  they  had  seen. 

They  left  the  Arkansas  village,  and  began  their  home- 
ward voyage  on  the  17th  of  July.  It  was  no  easy  task  to 
Urge  their  way  upward,  in  the  heat  of  midsummer,  against 
the  current  of  the  dark  and  gloomy  stream,  toiling  all  day 
under  the  parching  sun,  and  sleeping  at  night  in  the  exhaia 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  8.  J. 


525 


tions  of  the  unwholesome  shore,  or  in  the  narrow  confines  of 
their  birchen  vessels,  anchored  on  the  river.  Father  Mar. 
quette  was  attacked  with  dysentery.  Languid  and  well-nigh 
spent,  the  great  missionary  invoked  his  Heavenly  Patron- 
ess, as  day  after  day,  and  week  after  week,  they  won  their 
weary  way  northward.  At  length,  they  reached  the 
Illinois,  and  entering  its  mouth,  followed  its  course, 
charmed,  as  they  went,  with  its  placid  waters,  its  shady 
forests,  and  its  rich  plains,  grazed  by  the  bison  and  the 
deer.  Green  Baj’-  was  reached  at  the  end  of  September, 
after  an  absence  of  about  four  months,  during  which  time 
they  had  paddled  their  canoes  somewhat  more  than  two 
thousand  five  hundred  miles.’ 

> Parkman. 

According  to  Dr.  Spark's  “ Life  of  Marquette,”  the  distance  traversed  by  the  saintly  roissionary 
and  his  companion  JoUiet  was  Sl,767  miles. 

General  Wood,  Inspector-General  of  the  United  States  Army,  has  made  the  following  carefts  • 


Mtimates  of  this  historic  voyage,  from  personal  observations : 

From  Green  Bay  up  Fox  River  to  the  Portage 175  miles. 

Prom  the  Portage  down  the  Wisconsin  to  the  Mississippi ....  175  “ 

From  the  mouth  of  the  Wisconsin  to  the  mouth  of  the  ArkansAs 1067  “ 

From  the  Arkansas  to  the  Illinois  River 547  “ 

From  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas  to  Chicago 305 

From  Chicago  to  Green  Bay,  by  the  lake  shore 260  “ 


VNAb ....  2,518  mllM. 


CHAPTER  111.) 


THE  SUBLIME  END  OF  A BEAUTIFUL  LIFE. 

Father  Marquette  hattUng  with  disease — A new  mission — 
The  journey  along  Lake  Michigan — At  the  site  of 
Chicago — Among  the  Kaskaskias — Return  of  the  dis- 
ease— On  the  way  to  Mackinaw — The  last  days  of  the 
great  missionary — The  beautiful  end — His  fame  and 
character. 

While  Mr.  Jolliet  proceeded  to  Canada  to  publish  the 
news  of  the  great  discovery  to  the  world,  the  pious  and 
humble  Marquette  remained  at  Green  Bay  to  recruit  his  ex- 
hausted strength  before  renewing  his  zealous  labors  among 
the  Indians.  He  sought  no  laurels.  He  aspired  to  no  tin- 
sel praise. 

The  remaining  part  of  the  story  of  the  illustrious  mis- 
sionary’s heroic  life  is  short  but  sublime.  During  the  win- 
ter and  spring  of  1674,  he  lay  on  his  sick  couch,  the  victim 
of  a complication  of  diseases.  In  the  autumn,  however,  he 
regained  his  health  somewhat,  and  was  permitted  by  his  supe- 
rior to  attempt  the  execution  of  a plan  to  which  he  was  de- 
votedly attached — the  founding  at  the  principal  town  of  the 
Illinois  of  a mission  to  be  called  the  Immaculate  Concep- 
tion, a name  which  he  had  already  given  to  the  Mississippi. 
He  set  out  on  this  errand  on  the  25th  of  October,  accompa- 
nied by  two  men  named  Peter  and  James,  one  of  whom  had 
been  with  him  on  his  great  Journey  of  discovery.  A band 
of  Pottawattamies  and  another  band  of  Illinois  also  Joined 
him.  The  united  parties — ten  canoes  in  all — followed  the 
east  shore  of  Green  Bay,  as  far  as  the  inlet  then  called  Stur- 
geon Cove,  from  the  head  of  which  they  crossed  by  a 
526 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.  J. 


527 


difficult  portage  through  the  forest  to  the  shore  of  Lake 
Michigan. 

November  had  come.  The  bright  hues  of  the  autumn 
foliage  were  changed  to  rusty  brown.  The  shore  was  deso- 
late, and  the  lake  was  stormy.  They  were  more  than  a 
month  in  coasting  its  western  border,  when  at  length 
they  reached  the  River  Chicago,  entered  it,  and  descended 
it  about  two  leagues.  Father  Marquette’s  disease  had 
lately  returned,  and  hemorrhage  now  ensued.  He  told 
his  two  companions  that  this  journey  would  be  his  last. 
In  the  condition  in  which  he  was,  it  was  impossible  to  go 
farther. 

It  was  the  4th  of  December  when  Father  Marquette  reached 
the  site  of  the  since  great  city  of  the  West.  The  ice  had 
partially  closed  the  stream.  His  men,  simple,  faithful 
companions,  erected  a log-hut,  home  and  chapel,  the  first 
dwelling  and  first  church  of  Chicago.  Praying  to  Our 
Lady  to  enable  him  to  reach  his  destination,  offering  the 
Holy  Sacrifice  whenever  his  illness  permitted,  receiving  dele- 
gations from  his  flock,  the  Kaskaskias,  the  winter  waned 
aw'ay  in  pious  foundation  of  the  white  settlement  at 
Chicago. 

With  the  opening  of  spring  the  apostolic  man  set  out, 
and  his  last  letter  notes  his  progress  till  the  6th  of  April, 
1675.  Two  days  after  he  was  among  the  Kaskaskias,  and, 
rearing  his  altar  on  the  prairie  which  lies  between  the 
present  town  of  Utica  and  the  Illinois  river,  he  offered  up 
the  Mass  on  Maundy  Thursday,  and  began  the  instruction 
of  the  willing  Indians  who  gathered  around  him. 

A few  days  only  were  allotted  to  him,  when,  after  Easter, 
he  was  again  stricken  down.  If  he  would  die  in  the  arms 
of  his  brethren  at  Mackinaw,  he  saw  that  he  must  depart  at 
once;  for  he  felt  that  the  days  of  his  sojourning  were 
rapidly  closing.  Escorted  by  the  Kaskaskias,  who  were 
deeply  impressed  by  the  zeal  that  could  so  battle  with 
death,  the  missionary  reached  Lake  Michigan,  on  the  east- 


5‘arkmaii. 


• IbiO. 


528 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUE! TE,  S.  J. 


ern  side.  Although  that  shore  was  as  yet  unknown,  his 
faithful  men  launched  his  canoe.' 

“His  strength,  however,  failed  so  much,”  says  Father 
Dablon,  whom  we  shall  now  follow;  “ that  his  men  despaired 
of  being  able  to  convey  him  alive  to  their  journey’s  end; 
for  in  fact,  he  became  so  weak  and  so  exhausted  that  he 
could  no  longer  help  himself,  nor  even  stir,  and  had  to  be 
handled  and  carried  like  a child.  He  nevertheless  main- 
tained in  this  state  an  admirable  resignation,  joy,  and  gen- 
tleness, consoling  his  beloved  companions,  and  encouraging 
them  to  suffer  courageously  all  the  hardships  of  this  voy- 
age, assuring  them  that  Our  Lord  would  not  forsake  them 
when  he  was  gone. 

“It  was  during  this  navigation  that  he  began  to  prepare 
more  particulary  for  death,  passing  his  time  in  colloquies 
with  our  Lord,  with  His  holy  Mother,  with  his  angel  guar- 
dian, or  with  all  Heaven.  He  was  often  heard  pronouncing 
these  words : ‘ I believe  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  ’ or 
‘Mary,  Mother  of  grace.  Mother  of  God,  remember  me.  ’ 

“ Besides  a sx)iritual  reading  made  for  him  every  day,  he 
toward  the  close  asked  them  to  read  him  his  meditation  on 
the  preparation  for  death,  which  he  carried  about  ‘him  ; he 
recited  his  breviary  every  day ; and  although  he  was  so 
low  that  both  sight  and  strength  had  greatly  failed,  he  did 
not  omit  it  till  the  last  day  of  his  life,  when  his  companions 
excited  his  scruples.  A weak  before  his  death  he  had  the 
precaution  to  bless  some  holy  water  to  serve  him  during 
the  rest  of  his  illness,  in  his  agony,  and  at  his  burial,  and 
he  instructed  his  companions  how  to  use  it. 

“On  the  eve  of  his  death,  which  was  a Friday,  he  told 
them,  all  radiant  with  joy,  that  it  would  take  place  on  the 
morrow.  During  the  whole  day  he  conversed  with  them 
about  the  manner  of  his  burial,  the  way  in  which  he  should 
be  laid  out,  the  place  to  be  selected  for  his  interment ; how 
they  should  arrange  his  hands,  and  face,  and  how  they 
should  raise  a cross  over  his  grave. 


' Shea. 


DEATH  OF  FATHER  MARQUETTE. 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  S.  J.. 


529 


^‘He  even  went  so  far  as  to  enjoin  them,  only  three  hours 
before  he  expired,  to  take  his  chapel-bell,  as  soon  as  he 
was  dead,  and  ring  it  while  they  carried  him  to  the  grave. 
Of  all  this  he  spoke  so  calmly  and  collectedly  that  you 
would  have  thought  he  spoke  of  the  death  and  burial  of  an 
other,  and  not  of  his  own. 

“Thus  did  he  speak  to  them  as  he  sailed  along  the  lake, 
till  perceiving  the  mouth  of  a river,  with  an  eminence  on 
the  bank  which  he  thought  suited  for  his  burial,  he  told 
them  that  it  was  the  place  of  his  last  repose.  They  wished, 
however,  to  pass  on,  as  the  weather  permitted  it  and  the 
day  was  not  far  advanced;  but  Grod  raised  a contrary  wind, 
which  obliged  them  to  return  and  enter  the  river  which  the 
father  had  designated. 

“They  then  carried  him  ashore,  kindled  a little  fire,  and 
raised  a wretched  bark  cabin  for  his  use,  laying  him  in  it 
with  as  little  discomfort  as  they  could;  but  they  were  so 
depressed  by  sadness  that,  as  they  afterwards  said,  they 
did  not  know  what  they  were  doing. 

“The  Father  being  thus  stretched  on  the  shore  like 
St.  Francis  Xavier,  as  he  had  always  so  ardently  desired, 
and  left  alone  amid  those  forests  — for  his  companions 
w’ere  engaged  in  unloading  — he  had  leisure  to  repeat  all 
the  acts  in  which  he  had  employed  himself  during  the  pre- 
ceding days. 

“When  his  dear  companions  afterwards  came  up,  all 
dejected,  he  consoled  them,  and  gave  them  hopes  that 
God  would  take  care  of  them  after  his  death  in  those 
new  and  unknown  countries;  he  gave  them  his  last  in- 
structions, thanked  them  for  all  the  charity  they  had 
shown  him  during  the  voyage,  begged  their  pardon  for 
the  trouble  he  had  given  them,  directed  them  also  to  ask 
pardon  in  his  name  of  all  our  Fathers  and  Brothers  in 
the  Ottawa  country,  and  then  disposed  them  to  receive 
the  sacrament  of  penance,  which  he  administered  to  them 
for  the  last  time. 

-“He  also  gave  them  a paper  on  which  he  had  written  all 
his  faults  since  his  last  confession,  to  be  given  to  his  Supe- 


630 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  8.  J. 


rior,  to  oblige  him  to  pray  to  God  more  earnestly  for  him. 
In  fine,  he  promised  not  to  forget  them  in  Heaven,  and  as 
he  was  very  kind-hearted,  and  knew  them  to  be  worn  out 
with  the  toil  of  the  preceding  days,  he  bade  them  go  and 
take  a little  rest,  assuring  them  that  his  hour  was  not  yet 
BO  near  but  that  he  would  wake  them  when  it  was  time — 
as,  in  fact,  he  did  two  or  three  hours  after,  calling  them 
when  about  to  enter  into  his  agony. 

“When  they  came  near,  he  embraced  them  again  for  the 
last  time,  while  they  melted  in  tears  at  his  feet.  He  then 
asked  for  the  holy  water  and  his  reliquary,  and,  taking  off 
his  crucifix,  which  he  always  wore  hanging  from  his  neck, 
he  placed  it  in  the  hands  of  one  of  his  companions,  asking 
him  to  hold  it  constantly  opposite  him,  raised  before  his 
eyes. 

“Feeling  that  he  had  but  a little  while  to  live,  he  made 
a last  effort,  clasped  his  hands,  and,  with  his  eyes  fixed 
sweetly  on  his  crucifix,  he  pronounced  aloud  his  profession 
of  faith,  and  thanked  the  Divine  Majesty  for  the  immense 
favor  he  bestowed  upon  him  in  allowing  him  to  die  in  the 
Society  of  Jesus,  to  die  in  it  as  a missionary  of  Jesus 
Christ,  and  above  all  to  die  in  it,  as  he  had  always  asked, 
in  a wretched  cabin,  amid  the  forests,  destitute  of  all  hu- 
man aid. 

“On  this  he  became  silent,  conversing  inwardly  with 
God;  yet  from  time  to  time  words  escaped  him:  '•  Sus- 
tinuit  anima  mea  in  verho  ejus,'  or  ’■Mater  Dei,,  memento 
mei^'‘  which  were  the  last  words  he  uttered  before  entering 
into  his  agony,  which  was  very  calm  and  gentle. 

“He  had  prayed  his  companions  to  remind  him,  when 
they  saw  hjm  about  to  expire,  to  pronon  nee  frequently  the 
names  of  Jesus  and  Mary,  if  he  did  not  do  so  himself;  they 
did  not  neglect  this;  and  when  they  thought  him  about  to 
pass  away  one  cried  aloud,  ‘ Jesus ! Mary  ! which  he  sev- 
eral times  repeated  distinctly,  and  then,  as  if  at  those  sa- 
cred names  something  had  appeared  to  him,  he  suddenly 
raised  his  eyes  above  his  crucifix,  fixing  them  apparently 
apon  some  object,  which  he  seemed  to  regard  with  pleas- 


FATHER  JAMES  MARqUETTB,  S.  J. 


631 


nre;  and  thus,  with  a countenance  all  radiant  with  smiles, 
he  expired  without  a struggle,  and  so  gently  that  it  might 
be  called  a quiet  sleep. 

“His  two  poor  companions,  after  shedding  many  tears 
over  his  body,  and  having  laid  it  out  as  he  had  directed, 
carried  it  out  devoutly  to  the  grave,  ringing  the  bell  accord- 
ing to  his  injunction,  and  raised  a large  cross  near  it  to 
serve  as  a mark  for  all  who  passed.  . . . 

“God  did  not  permit  so  precious  a deposit  to  remain 
unhonored  and  forgotten  amid  the  forests.  The  Indians 
called  Kiskakons,  who  have  for  nearly  ten  years  publicly 
professed  Christianity,  in  which  they  were  first  instructed 
by  Father  Marquette  when  stationed  at  La  Pointe  du 
St.  Esprit,  at  the  extremity  of  Lnke  Superior,  were  hunt- 
ing last  winter  not  far  from  Lake  Illinois  (Michigan), 
and,  as  they  were  returning  early  in  the  spring,  they  re- 
solved to  pass  by  the  tomb  of  their  good  Father,  whom 
they  tenderly  loved;  and  God  even  gave  them  the  thought 
of  taking  his  bones  and  conveying  them  to  our  church 
at  the  mission  of  St.  Ignatius,  at  Missilimakinac,  where 
they  reside. 

“They  accordingly  repaired  to  Che  spot  and  deliberated 
together,  resolving  to  act  with  their  Father  as  they  usually 
do  with  those  whom  they  respect.  They  accordingly 
opened  the  grave,  unrolled  the  body,  and,  though  the  flesh 
and  intestines  were  all  dried  up,  they  found  it  entire,  with- 
out the  skin  being  in  any  way  injured.  This  did  not  pre- 
vent their  dissecting  it  according  to  custom.  They  washed 
the  bones  and  dried  them  in  the  sun;  then,  putting  them 
neatly  in  a box  of  birch  bark,  they  set  out  to  bear  them  to 
our  house  of  St.  Ignatius. 

“The  convoy  consisted  of  nearly  thirty  canoes  in  excel- 
lent order,  including  even  a good  number  of  Iroquois,  who 
had  joined  our  Algonquins  to  honor  the  ceremony.  As 
they  approached  our  house,  Father  Nouvel,  who  is  Supe- 
rior, went  to  meet  them  Avith  Father  Pierson,  accompanied 
by  all  the  French  and  Indians  of  the  place,  and  having 
caused  the  convoy  to  stop,  he  made  the  ordinary  interroga- 


' FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  8.  J. 

tions  to  verify  the  fact  that  the  body  which  they  bore  was 
really  Father  Marquette’s. 

“Then,  before  they  landed,  he  in  coned  the  De  Profundis 
in  sight  of  the  thirty  canoes  still  on  the  water,  and  of  all 
the  people  on  the  shore.  After  this  the  body  was  carried 
to  the  church,  observing  all  that  the  ritual  prescribes  for 
such  ceremonies.  It  remained  exposed  under  his  catafalque 
all  that  day,  which  was  Whitsun  Monday,  the  8th  of  June; 
and  the  next  day,  when  all  the  funeral  honors  had  been 
paid  It,  it  was  deposited  in  a little  vault  in  the  middle  of 
the  church,  where  he  reposes  as  the  Guardian  Angel  of  our 
Ottawa  Mission.  The  Indians  often  come  to  pray  on  his 
tomb.” 

Father  Marquette  died  in  his  thirty-eighth  year,  on  Satur- 
day, the  18th  of  May,  1675. 

The  venerable  historian,  Charlevoix,  who  traveled  through 
the  West  in  1721,  states  that  the  French  mariners  never  fail 
to  invoke  Father  Marquette  “when  they  are  in  any  peril  on 
Lake  Michigan.  Many  have  declared  that  they  believed 
themselves  indebted  to  his  intercession  for  having  escaped 
very  great  dangers.” 

“Father  Marquette,”  writes  Shea,  “was  not  a mer? 
scholar  or  man  of  science.  If  he  sought  new  avenues  foi 
civilized  man  to  thread  the  very  heart  of  the  continent,  it 
was  with  him  a work  of  Christian  love.  It  was  to  open  the 
way  for  the  Gospel,  that  the  Cross  might  enlighten  new  and 
remote  nations. 

“No  missionary  of  that  glorious  band  of  Jesuits,  who,  in  the 
seventeenth  century^  announced  the  Faith  from  Hudson  Bay 
to  the  Lower  Mississippi,  who  hallowed  by  their  labors  and 
life-blood  so  many  a wild  spot  now  occupied  by  the  busy  hives 
of  men — none  of  them  impresses  us  more,  in  his  whole  life 
and  career,  with  his  piety,  sanctity,  and  absolute  devotion 
to  God,  than  Father  Marquette.  In  life  he  seems  to  have 
been  looked  up  to  with  reverence  by  the  wildest  savage,  by 
the  rude  frontiersman,  and  by  the  polished  officers  of  gov- 
ernment. When  he  had  passed  away,  his  name  and  his  fame 


FATHER  JAMES  MARQUETTE,  8.J. 


5m 


remained  in  the  Great  West,  treasured  above  that  of  his  fel- 
low-laborers.”' 

“ Thus  he  died,  the  great  Apostle,  far  away  in  regions  West, 

By  the  Lake  of  the  Algonquins’  peacefully  his  ashes  rest. 

But  his  spirit  still  regards  us  from  his  home  among  the  Blest" 


' > In  relation  to  the  recent  finding  of  the  preciona  remains  of  Father  Marquette,  see  an  exoot- 
lent  paper  by  Dr.  J.  G.  Shea,  in  77i* *  Catholic  World  for  November,  1877,  entitled  “ Bomanoc 
and  Beauty  of  the  death  of  Father  Jamea  Marqnette,  and  the  recant  diecoTery  of  Us  ttaaiBL," 

* The  early  name  of  Lake  M'"h1gan 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  DE  LA  SALLE, 

THE  ILLUSTRIOUS  EXPLORER  OF  THE  MSSISSIPPI  VALLEY.' 


CHAPTER  I. 

YOUTHFUL  GENIUS  AND  VAST  DESIGNS, 

Births  family,  and  education  of  La  Salle — Goes  to  Canada 
— Settles  near  Montreal — How  little  was  known  of  North 
America  then — Vast  Schemes  of  La  Salle — Discovers 
the  Ohio — At  Fort  Frontenac — Developing  thoughts — 
Privileges  granted  by  the  King  of  France — A Glimpse 
at  Fort  Frontenac. 

Scarcely  had  the  last  words  of  the  glorious  Marquette — 
Mater  Dei,  memento  mei  ’—died  away  on  the  winds  of  Michi- 
gan, when  a bold  and  devoted  spirit,  fired  by  the  fame  of 
previous  explorations,  was  meditating  on  the  shores  of  Lake 
Ontario  the  prosecution  of  the  grand  work  begun  by  the 
ilustrious  missionary.  A Jesuit  Father  had  led  the  way. 
A Catholic  nobleman  now  advanced  to  complete  the  work. 

Robert  Cavelier  de  la  Salle’  was  born  in  the  city  of  Rouen, 
France,  in  the  year  1643.  He  belonged  to  an  old  and 


> Chief  authorities  used:  Shea,  “The  Discovery  and  Exploration  of  the  Mississippi;”  Park- 
man,  “The  Discovery  of  the  Great  West;”  Abbott,  “The  Adventures  of  the  Chevalier  de  la 
Salle;”  De  Fontpertius,  “Les  Fran9ais  en  Amerique;”  Bancroft,  “History  of  the  United 
States;”  The  Catholic  World,  Vol.  XX.;  McGee,  “Catholic  History  of  Noi-th  America;”  The 
North  American  Beview  for  December,  1877;  Hart,  “ History  or  the  Discovery  of  the  Valley  of 
the  Mississippi;”  Charlevoix,  “ History  and  General  Description  of  New  France;”  Sparks,  “Life 
of  La  Salle.” 

* “ Mother  of  God,  remember  me.” 

* His  full  name  was  Rene-Robert  Cavelier,  Sienr  de  la  Salle.  La  Salle  was  the  name  of  an 
estate  near  Rouen,  belonging  to  the  Caveliers.  The  wealthy  French  burghers  often  distinguished 
ItM  various  members  of  their  families  by  designations  borrowed  from  landed  estates. — Parkman. 

535 


636 


RObERl  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


wealthy  family.  It  is  said  that  in  early  youth  he  entered 
the  Society  of  Jesus,  in  which  he  remained  for  several  years 
studying  and  teaching.  Providence,  however,  destined  him 
for  a somewhat  different  sphere  of  labor  and  usefulness,  but 
one  having  a close  relationship  with  the  vast  work  of  the 
Church  among  mankind. 

La  Salle  had  a great  fondness  for  the  exact  sciences,  es- 
pecially mathematics,  in  which  he  was  remarkably  pro- 
ficient; and  he  left  the  Seminary  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers 
carrying  with  him  the  highest  testimonials  of  his  superiors, 
for  purity  of  character,  excellent  acquirements,  and  an 
energy  seldom  matched.  On  account,  however,  of  having 
been  connected  with  the  religious  state,  he  was,  by  a new 
and  unjust  provision  of  the  French  law,  deprived  of 
nearly  all  his  fortune. 

He  had  an  elder  brother  in  Canada,  the  Abbe  John 
Cavelier,  a priest  of  St.  Sulpice.  Apparently  it  was  this 
that  shaped  his  destinies.  His  family  made  him  an  allow- 
' ance  of  four  hundred  livres  a year,  the  capital  of  which  was 
paid  over  to  him;  and  with  this  pittance  in  his  pocket,  he 
sailed  for  Canada,  to  seek  his  fortune,  in  the  spring  of 
1666.’ 

La  Salle  obtained  from  the  Sulpitians  the  grant  of  a large 
tract  of  land,  about  nine  miles  above  Montreal.  Here  he 
began  a village  which  he  called  La  Chine,  and  which  to 
this  day  retains  the  suggestive  name.  He  also  exx>lored  a 
little,  and  began  the  study  of  the  Indian  languages.  It  is 
said  that  in  two  or  three  years  he  became  quite  familiar 
with  the  Huron,  Algonquin,  and  five  or  six  other  native 
dialects. 

At  that  time  the  whole  of  the  great  Northwest  of  the 
United  States  was  an  entirely  unknown  land.  No  one  had 
the  slightest  idea  as  to  whether  the  continent  of  North 
America  was  2,000  or  10,000  miles  in  breadth.  It  was  the 
general  impression,  however,  that  the  waves  of  the  Pacific 
wero  dashing  against  the  rocks  a few  miles  west  of  the 


1 Parkmaa. 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  DE  LA  SALLE. 


537 


chain  of  great  lakes  which  washed  the  southern  shores  of 
Canada.  La  Salle  was  meditating  an  expedition  up  the  St. 
Lawrence,  through  those  sparkling  seas  of  fresh  water  to 
Lake  Superior,  from  the  western  end  of  which  he  confi- 
dently expected  to  find  easy  communication  with  the  Pa- 
cific Ocean.  There  he  would  again  spread  his  adventurous 
sail,  having  discovered  a new  route  to  China  and  the  East 
Indies. 

There  was  grandeur  in  this  conception.  It  would  entirely 
change  the  route  of  the  world’s  commerce.  It  would  make 
the  French  possessions  in  the  New  World  valuable  be- 
yond conception.  This  all-important  thoroughfare  between 
Europe  and  Asia,  across  America,  would  be  under  the  con- 
trol of  the  French  Crown,  and  France  would  be  the  leader 
of  commerce.  So  thought  the  patriotic  and  enterprising 
genius  of  La  Salle. 

In  the  winter  of  1670,  La  Salle  organized  an  expedition 
which  included  some  Sulpitian  priests,  and  proceeded  to- 
wards the  southwest.  La  Chine  was  the  starting-point. 
The  accounts  of  this  voyage  are  rather  vague.  It  is  certain, 
however,  that  he  discovered  the  Ohio,  down  which  he  sailed 
as  far  as  the  present  site  of  Louisville.  Here  Ms  men 
refused  to  go  further,  left  him,  and  the  youthful  explorer 
returned  alone  to  Canada. 

We  next  find  La  Salle  commander  of  the  newly  estab- 
lished Fort  Frontenac — now  Kingston.  He  held  this  posi- 
tion when  the  tidings  of  Marquette’s  discovery  of  the 
Mississippi  first  reached  his  ears.'  It  was  a welcome  idea. 
It  suggested  new  trains  of  thought.  The  quick,  penetrat- 
ing intellect  of  La  Salle  at  once  identified  “ the  great  river 
of  Marquette  with  the  great  river  of  De  Soto.”  It  was,  in 
truth,  a fresh  impulse  to  his  vast  schemes  of  exploration. 

Three  thoughts,  rapidly  developing  in  his  mind,  were 
mastering  La  Salle,  and  engendering  an  invincible  purpose: 


> JoUiet  in  passing  down  from  the  upper  lakes  risited  Fort  Frontanac;  and,  perhaps,  he  r^howed 
La  Salle  the  maps  and  journal  which,  unfortunately,  he  afterwards  lost  in  shooting  the  rapids 
Just  aboTe  Montreal. 


638  ROBERT  CAVELIER  DE  LA  SALLE. 

(1.)  He  would  achieve  that  which  Champlain  had  vainly  at- 
tempted, and  of  which  our  own  generation  has  but  seen 
the  accomplishment — the  opening  of  a passage  to  India  and 
China  across  the  American  Continent.  (2.)  He  would  oc- 
cupy the  Great  West,  develop  its  commercial  resources, 
and  anticipate  the  Spaniards  and  English  in  the  possession 
of  it.  (3. ) He  would  establish  a fortified  post  at  the  mouth 
of  the  Mississippi,  thus  securing  an  outlet  for  the  trade  of 
the  interior,  checking  the  progress  of  the  Spaniards,  and 
forming  a base  whence  in  time  of  war  their  northern  prov- 
inces could  be  invaded  and  conquered.  Such  were  the 
great  projects  conceived  and  nursed  in  the  fertile  brain  of 
this  heroic  but  penniless  young  Frenchman ! ' 

In  the  autumn  of  1674,  La  Salle  went  to  France  with 
strong  letters  of  recommendation  from  the  Count  de  Fron- 
tenac.  Governor  of  Canada.  Writing  to  the  minister  Col- 
bert, Frontenac  says:  “I  cannot  help.  Monseigneur,  rec- 
ommending to  you  the  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  who  is  about  to 
go  to  France,  and  who  is  a man  of  intelligence  and  ability 
— more  capable  than  any  one  else  I know  here  to  accom- 
plish every  kind  of  enterprise  and  discovery  which  may  be 
intrusted  to  him.  He  has  the  most  perfect  knowledge  of 
the  state  of  the  country,  as  you  will  see,  if  you  are  disposed 
to  give  him  a few  moments  of  an  audience.  ” 

He  was  well  received  at  Court,  and  made  two  petitions  to 
the  King — one  for  a patent  of  nobility,  in  consideration  of 
his  services  as  an  exploi-er,  the  other  for  a grant  in 
seigniory  of  Fort  Frontenac.’  On  his  part.  La  Salle  of- 
fered to  pay  back  the  10,000  francs  which  the  fort  had 
cost  the  Government ; to  maintain  it  at  his  own  charge, 
with  a garrison  equal  to  that  of  Montreal,  besides  fifteen  or 
twenty  laborers ; to  form  a French  colony  around  it,  to 
build  a Catholic  church  whenever  the  number  of  inhabit- 
ants should  reach  one  hundred;  and,  meanwhile,  to  sup- 
port one  or  more  Franciscan  fathers  ; and  finally,  to  form  a 


> Parkman. 

* It  waa  La  Salle  who  gave  the  new  post  this  name,  in  hanor  of  his  ftXton.—Parktrum. 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  DE  LA  SALLE. 


539 


settlement  of  domesticated  Indians  in  the  neighborhood. 
His  offers  were  accepted.  He  was  raised  to  the  rank  of  an 
untitled  noble;*  received  a grant  of  the  fort,  and  lands  ad- 
jacent to  the  extent  of  four  leagues  in  front  and  a half  a 
league  in  depth,  besides  the  neighboring  islands;  and  he  was 
invested  with  the  government  of  the  fort  and  settlement, 
subject,  however,  to  the  orders  of  the  Grovernor- General.’ 

When  La  Salle  gained  possession  of  Fort  Frontenac, 
writes  Parkman,  he  secured  a base  for  all  his  future  enter- 
prises. That  he  meant  to  make  it  a permanent  one,  is  clear 
from  the  pains  he  took  to  strengthen  its  defenses.  Within 
two  years  from  the  date  of  his  grant  he  had  replaced  the 
hasty  palisade  fort  of  Count  Frontenac  by  a regular  work 
of  hewn  stone,  of  which,  hovvev^er,  only  two  bastions,  with 
their  connecting  curtains,  were  completed,  the  inclosure  on 
the  water-side  being  formed  of  pickets. 

Within  there  was  a barrack,  a well,  a mill,  and  a bakery; 
while  a wooden  block-house  guarded  the  gateway.  Near 
the  shore,  south  of  the  fort,  was  a cluster  of  small  housei 
of  French  hdbitans\  and  farther,  in  the  same  direction, 
was  the  Indian  village.  Two  officers  and  a surgeon,  with  a 
half  a score  or  more  of  soldiers,  made  up  the  garrison;  and 
three  or  four  times  that  number  of  masons,  laborers,  and 
canoemen,  were  at  one  time  maintained  at  the  fort.  Be- 
sides these,  there  were  two  Franciscan  fathers,  Luke 
Buisset  and  Louis  Hennepin.  La  Salle  built  a house  for 
them  near  the  fort ; and  they  turned  a part  of  it  into  a 
chapel.  ’ 

Partly  for  trading  on  the  lake,  partly  with  a view  to  ul- 
terior designs,  he  caused  four  small-decked  vessels  to  be 
built,  but,  for  ordinary  uses,  canoes  best  served  his  pur- 
pose, and  his  followers  became  so  skilful  in  managing 
them,  that  they  were  reputed  the  best  canoemen  in  America. 
Feudal  lord  of  the  forest  around  him,  commander  of  a gar- 


• The  title  of  Chevalier.  * Parkman. 

’ This  was  the  first  place  of  worship  in  the  present  city  of  Kingston,  now,  and  for  many  jveam, 
M«  of  a Catholic  Bishop. 


640 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


rison  raised  and  paid  by  himself,  founder  of  the  missioiij 
patron  of  the  Church,  La  Salle  reigned  the  autocrat  of  his 
lonely  little  empire. 

But  he  had  no  thought  of  resting  here.  He  had  gained 
what  he  sought,  a fulcrum  for  bolder  and  broader  action. 
His  plans  were  ripened,  and  his  time  was  come.  He  was 
no  longer  a needy  adventurer,  disinherited  of  all  but  his 
fertile  brain  and  his  intrepid  heart.  He  had  won  place,  in- 
fluence, credit,  and  potent  friends.  Now,  at  length,  he 
might  hope  to  find  the  long-sought  path  to  China  and 
Japan,  and  secure  for  France  those  boundless  regions  ot 
the  West,  in  whose  watery  highways  he  saw  his  road  to 
wealth,  renown,  and  power.' 


> ••  Dleoovery  of  the  Great  West.' 


CHAPTER  II. 


TRAVELING  THE  THORNY.  ROAD  OF  DISCOVERY,  PERIL,  AND 

ADVENTURE. 

Great  preparations — Paddling  up  the  St  Lawrence — The 
first  written  description  of  Niagara — Ship-huilding — 
Launch  of  the  ‘■^OrifiUn" — The  first  voyage  up  the  Lakes 
— Fort  Creoecoeur — A dreadful  journey  of  over  1,200  miles 
— Nothing  hut  disaster — Returning  to  Illinois — A 
ghastly  scene — More  forest  roving^  and  pushing  through 
the  snows  of  Indiana — At  Fort  Miami — A council — 
Final  preparations  for  the  discovery  of  the  mouth  of 
the  Mississippi. 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1677,  La  Salle  returned  to 
France  to  report  the  progress  of  his  undertakings  and  to 
raise  fresh  supplies.  At  the  Court  his  reception  was  most 
cordial.  The  King  gave  him  new  honors  and  more  extended 
privileges.  His  wealthy  relatives  advanced  large  sums  of 
money.  He  bought  supplies  and  engaged  men.  Among 
these  was  one  worth  all  the  rest — Henry  de  Tonti  an  Italian 
officer  who  was  strongly  recommended  to  La  Salle  by  the 
Prince  de  Conde.'  He  was  a man  whose  energy  and  address 
made  him  equal  to  anything. 

La  Salle  sailed  from  La  Rochelle,  and  in  the  fall  of  1678 
landed  at  Quebec.  Here  a number  of  Canadian  boatmen 
joined  his  party.  He  sent  them  forward  to  Fort  Frontenac, 
which  was  now  really  his  castle,  with  the  surrounding  wil- 
derness as  his  estate.  The  boats  were  heavily  laden  with 
all  articles  necessary  for  trading  with  the  Indians,  and  with 
everything  essential  to  the  building  and  rigging  of  vessels. 
The  commander  himself  soon  followed.  He  proceeded  in 


• Tonti  had  but  one  arm;  he  had  lost  the  other  in  the  wars  of  Itaty, 


541 


542 


ROBERT  CA  VELIER  DE  LA  SALLE. 


a birch-bark  canoe,  with  only  one  or  two  companions.  It 
was  a long  and  perilous  voyage.  The  hardy  pioneers  pa- 
tiently stemmed  the  swift  currents  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
struggled  against  its  rapids,  glided  silently  along  its  lonely 
forest-fringed  shores,  and  several  times  came  very  near  being 
wrecked. 

At  the  close  of  each  day,  it  was  always  necessary  to  run 
the  canoes  ashore  and  encamp.  Bnt  with  men  fond  of  ad- 
venture these  were  pleasures  rather  than  pains.  In  half 
an  hour  their  keen  axes  constructed  a sheltering  camp. 
The  brilliant  fire  dispelled  all  gloom.  The  fragrant  twigs 
of  the  pine  or  hemlock  furrnshed  a soft  couch.  Here  they 
cooked  supper,  sang  songs,  told  stories;  and,  perhaps,  en- 
joyed as  much  pleasure  as  is  usually  found  in  the  parlors  of 
the  great  and  the  wealthy. 

Indian  villages,  in  those  days,  were  quite  profusely  scat- 
tered along  the  banks  of  this  majestic  river.  The  scene 
was  often  quite  exciting  as  the  canoe  of  the  voyagers  ap- 
proached one  of  these  clusters  of  picturesque  wigwams  in 
the  evening  twilight.  The  Indians  were  fond  of  songs  and 
dances,  and  the  blaze  of  the  crackling  bonfire.  The  whole 
expanse  of  river,  cliff,  and  forest,  would  be  lighted  up.  The 
gay  shouts  of  the  barbaric  revelry  echoed  through  the  grand 
solitudes;  and  the  dusky  warrior,  squaw,  and  pappoose 
flitted  about  in  all  the  varied  enjoyments  of  savage  life  and 
leisure.  ‘ 

Fort  Frontenac  was  reached  in  safety.  On  the  18fh  of 
November,  La  Salle  sent  a small  vessel  of  ten  tons,  with  a 
deck,  to  go  to  the  farther  extremity  of  Lake  Ontario,  a dis- 
tance of  about  two  hundred  miles,  and  to  ascend  the  Niag- 
ara river  until  the  famous  Falls  were  reached.  This  little 
craft  contained  about  thirty  workmen,  with  provisions  and 
implements  for  erecting  a fort,  and  building  a vessel  beyond 
the  Falls,  at  the  eastern  end  of  Lake  Erie. 

About  ten  years  previously — in  1669 — La  Salle,  while  on 
an  exploring  tour  with  a party  of  missionaries,  had  discov- 


* Abbott. 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


543 


ered  Niagara'  Falls.  Galinee,  in  his  journal  of  this  expedi- 
tion writes:  “We  found  a river  one-eighth  of  a league 
broad  and  extremely  rapid,  forming  the  outlet  from  Lake 
Erie  to  Lake  Ontario.  The  depth  is  extraordinary.  We 
found  close  to  the  shore  fifteen  or  sixteen  fathoms  of  water. 
This  outlet’  is  forty  miles  long.  It  has,  from  ten  to  twelve 
miles  above  its  entrance  into  Lake  Ontario,  one  of  the  finest 
cataracts  in  the  world.  AU  the  Indians  say  that  the  river 
falls  from  a rock  higher  than  the  tallest  pines.  We  heard 
the  roar  at  the  distance  of  ten  or  twelve  miles.  The  fall 
gives  such  a momentum  to  the  water,  that  its  current  pre- 
vented our  ascending,  except  with  great  difficulty.  The 
current  above  the  falls  is  so  rapid  that  it  often  sucks  in 
deer  and  stags,  elk  and  roebuck,  in  their  efforts  to  cross  the 
river,  and  overwhelms  them  in  its  frightful  abyss.” 

This  is  the  earliest  known  description  of  Niagara  Falls, 
and  it  is  but  right  to  add  that  it  is  from  the  pen  of  a Gath- 
olic  missionary. 

La  Salle  joined  his  companions  at  the  head  of  the  Niagara 
river  on  the  borders  of  Lake  Erie.  It  was  then  the  29th  of 
January,  1679.  The  river  above  the  falls  was  one  sheet  of 
ice,  and  resembled  a plain  paved  with  finely-polished  marble. 
The  Indians  received  the  Frenchmen  with  much  friend- 
liness. 

All  the  goods  were  to  be  transported  through  a trail  of  the 
forest,  covered  with  deep  snow,  around  the  Falls — a dis- 
tance of  about  twenty  miles.  It  was  to  be  done  on  the 
shoulders  of  men.  The  savages  kindly  aided  in  these  her- 
culean labors,  and  were  amply  repaid  for  days  of  toil  by 
the  present  of  a knife,  a hatchet,  or  a few  trinkets,  as  dear 
and  valuable  to  them  as  are  pearls  and  diamonds  to  a vain 
duchess.  La  Salle  constructed  a fortified  depot  at  this 
place  to  serve  as  a base  for  future  operations.  Here  he 
could  store  such  additional  supplies  as  he  might  order  from 
Fort  Frontenac. 


* Niagara  means  " neck  of  water.' 

• The  Niagara  river. 


544 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


On  the  20th  of  January,  1579,  La  Salle,  accompanied  by 
his  long  train  of  heavily  laden  men,  in  single  file,  reached 
his  large  log-cabin  and  ship- yard,  in  the  midst  of  a dense 
forest  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Erie.  They  carried  upon  their 
backs  provisions,  merchandise,  ammunition,  and  materials 
for  rigging  the  vessel.  The  dock-yard — it  could  hardly  be 
called  a fort— was  about  six  miles  above  Niagara  Falls,  on 
the  western  side  of  the  river,  at  the  outlet  of  a little  stream, 
now  called  Cayuga  Creek.* 

Everything  was  soon  prepared  for  the  building  of  the  ves- 
sel. La  Salle  laid  the  keel  with  his  own  hands,  and  drove 
the  first  bolt.  He  had  no  thought,  however,  of  encroach- 
ing upon  the  lands  of  the  Indians.  His  was  to  be  no  war- 
like conquest.  The  object  of  his  expedition  was  solely  to 
make  discoveries  in  the  name  of  France.  His  grand  ambi- 
tion was  to  see  the  banner  of  France  proudly  float  over  the 
great  lakes  and  the  rich  and  boundless  West. 

With  a sagacity  quite  characteristic,  he  summoned  a coun- 
cil of  the  chiefs  of  all  the  neighboring  tribes. 

“I  come  to  you,”  he  said,  “as  a friend  and  brother.  1 
wish  to  buy  your  furs.  I will  pay  for  them  in  guns  and 
powder,  knives,  hatchets,  kettles,  beads,  and  such  other 
articles  as  you  want.  You  can  do  me  good,  and  I can  do 
you  good.  We  can  be  brothers.  I am  building  a vessel 
that  I may  visit  other  tribes,  buy  their  furs,  and  carry 
our  goods  to  them.  Let  us  shake  hands  and  smoke  the 
pipe  of  friendship.  The  Great  Spirit  will  be  pleased  to 
see  us,  His  children,  help  each  other  and  love  each  other. 
I wish  to  establish  a trading-post  here,  where  I can  collect 
my  furs,  and  where  you  can  come  to  sell  them.  And  here 
you  will  find  mechanics  who  will  mend  j'our  guns,  knives, 
and  kettles  when  they  get  out  of  order.” 

These  were  honest  and  convincing  words.  All  smoked 


> It  is  two  leagues  above  the  Falla.  Immediately  in  front  of  it  is  an  island  about  a mile  long, 
separated  from  the  shore  by  a narrow  and  deep  arm  of  the  -Niagara,  into  which  Cayuga  Creek  dis- 
charges itself.  The  place  is  so  obviously  suited  to  building  and  launching  a vessel,  that  in  th« 
early  part  of  this  century  the  Government  of  the  United  States  chose  it  for  the  construction  of  a 
•chooner  to  carry  supplies  to  the  garrisons  of  the  Upper  Lakes.  The  neighboring  village  now 
bears  the  name  of  La  Salle.— Pariman. 


ROBERT  CA  VERIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


545 


the  pipe  of  peace  and  grasped  hands  in  token  of  fraternity. 
The  Frenchman,  far  from  being  an  enemy,  was  a benefactor. 
His  life  was  to  be  carefully  protected.  Should  he,  from  un- 
kind treatment,  refuse  to  come  to  their  country,  they  could 
buy  no  more  guns,  or  knives,  or  kettles;  and  henceforth 
every  wigwam  welcomed  the  entrance  of  a Frenchman.* * 

During  the  construction  of  the  new  vessel  La  Salle  was 
absent  attending  to  other  matters  of  importance,  and  the 
work  progressed  under  the  superintendence  of  his  lieuten- 
ant, Tonti.  In  the  spring  she  was  ready  for  launching. 
Father  Hennepin  gave  her  his  blessing;  the  cannons  were 
fired,  and  amid  the  wild  shouts  of  Indians,  and  the  solemn 
chant  of  the  Te  Deum.,  she  glided  safely  into  the  Niagara 
river.  La  Salle  named  her  the  Griffin,^  in  honor  of  the 
Count  de  Frontenac’s  armorial  bearings. 

On  the  7th  of  August,  1679,  the  voyagers,  thirty-four’  in 
all.  embarked)  and  with  swelling  canvas  the  Griffin  ploughed 
I he  virgin  waves  of  Lake  Erie,  where  sail  was  never  seen 
before.  For  three  days  they  held  their  course  over  these 
unknown  waters,  and  on  the  fourth  turned  northward  into 
the  Strait  of  Detroit.  Here,  on  the  light  hand  and  on  the 
left,  lay  verdant  prairies,  dotted  with  gToves,  and  bordered 
with  lofty  forests.  They  saw  walnut,  chesnut,  and  wild-plum 
trees,  and  oak  festooned  with  grape  vines;  herds  of  deer, 
and  flocks  of  swans  and  wild  turkeys.  The  bulwarks  of  the 
Griffin  were  plentifully  hung  with  game  which  the  men 
killed  on  shore,  and  among  the  rest  with  a number  of  bears, 
much  commended  by  Father  Hennepin  for  their  want  of 
ferocity  and  the  excellence  of  their  flesh.  “Those,”  he 
says,  “ who  will  one  day  have  the  happiness  to  possess  this 
fertile  and  pleasant  strait,  will  be  very  much  obliged  to 
those  who  have  shown  them  the  way.”  They  crossed  Lake 


> Abbott. 

This  good  feeling,  however,  did  not  last  long ; in  fact,  the  Indians  around  Niagara  soon  grew 
Jealous  and  suspicious  of  their  French  neighbors, 

* The  Griffin  was  about  forty-five  tons  burden. 

• Three  Franciscan  Fathers,  Hennepin,  Membrfi,  and  the  aged  Ribourde,  were  among  the  aum 
ber.  They  accompanied  the  expedition  as  mUsionaries. 


646 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


St.  Clair,'  and  still  sailed  northward  against  the  current, 
till  now,  sparkling  in  the  sun.  Lake  Huron  spread  before 
them  like  a sea.’ 

After  bravely  weathering  a violent  hurricane  of  several 
days’  duration,  the  Griffin  reached  Mackinaw.  On  La 
Salle’s  arrival  at  this  old  mission- center,  the  Indians  were 
about  to  run  away  in  fright.  The  cause  of  it  all  was  the 
vessel  and  her  white,  flapping  sails;  but  when  they  heard 
the  roar  of  the  cannon,  their  terror  and  astonishment  were 
indescribable. 

The  party  now  landed  in  state,  and  marched,  under  arms, 
to  the  bark  chapel  of  the  Ottawa  village,  where  Mass  was 
celebrated.  La  Salle  knelt  before  the  altar,  dressed  in 
a mantle  of  scarlet,  bordered  with  gold.  Around  him  on 
every  side  were  kneeling  sailors,  artisans,  hardy  bush- 
rangers, and  painted  savages.  It  was  a devout  but  motley 
congregation. 

The  Griffin  proceeded  on  her  voyage,  and  on  the  2d  of 
September  cast  anchor  in  Green  Bay.  This  was  the  desti- 
nation of  the  travelers,  so  far  as  they  could  proceed  by 
water  and  make  use  of  their  vessel.  La  Salle  had  come  to 
this  trading- post,  to  collect  the  furs,  which  had  been 
brought  here  from  the  interior,  and  having  laden  the  Griffin 
with  them,  in  order  to  satisfy  his  clamoring  creditors,  he 
dispatched  her  for  Niagara,  with  the  “richest  cargo’  that 
had  yet  been  borne  on  the  waters  ol  Lake  Erie.” 

La  Salle  and  his  men’  now  directed  their  course  towards 
the  south.’  On  reaching  Lake  Peoria,  on  the  Illinois  river. 


* La  Salle  named  it  Sainte  Claire,  in  honor  of  the  holy  virgin  of  that  name.  The  present  nam* *, 
as  Parkman  justly  remarks,  is  a perversion. 

’ Parkman. 

3 It  was  valued  at  over  50,000  francs. 

* Fourteen  in  number,  including  the  three  missionaries. 

‘ The  long  journey  from  Green  Bay  to  Port  Crevecceur  was  full  of  adventures,  which  the  brevity 
of  our  sketch  will  not  permit  ns  to  reproduce.  We  merely  glance  at  one:  In  trying  lo  find  the  way 
that  led  from  the  St.  Joseph  river  to  the  headwaters  of  the  Kankakee,  La  Saiie  imprudeniiy 
set  out  to  explore  alone.  He  lost  his  way  in  the  dense  forest.  The  darkness  of  a stormy  night 
with  falling  enow  overtook  him;  and  he  fired  his  gun  as  a signal  of  distress.  But  silence  was  the 
only  answer.  Soon,  however,  he  saw  in  the  distance  the  ight  of  a fire,  .t  was  the  encampment 
of  a lone  Indian  who  had  formed  for  himself  a soft  bed  of  leaves.  The  savage  was  alarmed  bv  the 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


547 


he  began  the  construction  of  a fort  to  which  he  gave  the 
sad  name  of  Crevecoeur,  or  the  “Broken-hearted.”  This 
was  the  first  civilized  occupation  of  the  region  which  now 
forms  the  State  of  Illinois.  The  spot  may  still  be  seen, 
a little  below  Peoria.  Crevecoeur  tells  of  disaster  and  suf- 
fering, but  does  no  justice  to  the  iron-hearted  constancy  of 
the  sufferer.  Up  to  this  time  he  had  clung  to  the  hope  that 
his  vessel,  the  Gj'iJffin,  might  still  be  safe.  Her  safety  was 
vital  to  his  enterprise.  She  had  on  board  articles  of  the 
last  necessity  to  him,  including  the  rigging  and  anchors  of 
another  vessel,  which  he  was  to  build  at  Fort  Crevecoeur, 
in  order  to  descend  the  Mississippi,  and  sail  thence  to  the 
West  Indies.  Here  his  last  hope  had  vanished.  She  was 
doubtless  lost;  and  in  her  loss  he  and  all  his  plans  seemed 
ruined  alike.’ 

La  Salle’s  supplies  were  now  exhausted.  He  depended 
on  the  return  of  his  vessel  for  more.  One  path,  beset  with 
hardships  and  terrors,  still  lay  open  to  him.  He  might  re- 
turn on  foot  to  Fort  Frontenac,  through  over  twelve  hundred 
miles  of  a wilderness,  and  bring  thence  the  needful  succors. 
Leaving  Tonti  to  command  in  his  absence,  he  set  out,  accom- 
panied by  four  Frenchmen  and  a Mohegan  Indian.' 

It  was  early  in  March,  1680.  The  journey  was  really  ter- 
rifying. Sixty-five  days  of  toil  and  misery  passed  before 
they  reached  Niagara  Falls.  All  but  La  Salle  were  over- 
come with  disease  and  exhaustion.  The  following  is  a 
glimpse  of  some  of  the  ordeals  through  which  they  passed. 
It  is  from  the  pen  of  La  Salle  himself: 

“At  noon  on  the  25th,’’ 'he  writes,  “we  resumed  our 


report  of  the  gun,  and  fled.  La  Salle  entered  into  possession  of  the  cheerless  quarters  ana  s.ep: 
soundly  until  morning.  All  the  forenoon  of  the  next  day  he  wandered,  and  :t  was  -jot  anii.  .he 
afternoon  that  he  was  so  fortunate  as  to  be  able  to  rejoin  lus  companions,  came  .n  with  two 
dead  opossnms  hanging  at  his  Deit — the  result  of  his  adventurous  hunang  excursion. 

• Parkman. 

How  the  Griffin  perished,  or  what  became  oi  her,  is  not  Known  with  certainty;  out  she  -a as 
■ever  again  heard  of. 

> While  La  Salle  was  on  hie  way  to  Oanadh,  Father  Louis  Hennepin,  oy  cis  orders,  eft  Fort 
Crevecoeur,  and  explored  the  Upper  Mississippi  as  rar  as  the  Falls  of  .St.  Anthony — ihe  uims 
given  by  the  Franciscan,  in  honor  of  the  famous  8t.  Anthony  of  Padua. 

* March. 


-548 


ROBEmr  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


walk  through  the  woods,  which  were  so  matted  with  thorns 
and  brambles  that  in  two  and  a half  days  our  clothes  were 
torn  to  tatters,  and  our  faces  so  scratched  that  we  hardly 
knew  each  other.  On  the  28th,  the  woods  were  more  open, 
and  we  began  to  fare  better,  meeting  a good  quantity  of 
game,  such  as  deer,  bears,  and  turkeys,  which  we  had  not 
found  before,  so  that  we  had  often  traveled  from  morning 
till  night  without  breakfast.” 

The  indomitable  travelers  were  now  crossing  the  southern 
part  of  Michigan.  Indians  were  following  them,  and,  to 
throw  the  savages  off  the  track,  they  set  fire  to  the  dry 
grass  of  the  meadows  through  which  they  passed,  to  wipe 
out  any  marks  of  their  trail. 

“We  did  this,”  continues  La  Salle,  “every  night.  It 
answered  very  well  so  long  as  we  found  open  fields;  but  on 
the  30th  we  got  into  great  marshes  flooded  by  the  thaws, 
and  were  forced  to  wade  through  them  in  mud  and  water, 
so  that  our  tracks  were  seen  by  a band  of  Maskontins  who 
were  out  after  Iroquois.  They  followed  us  through  the 
marshes  during  the  three  days  we  were  crossing  them,  but 
we  made  no  fire  at  night,  merely  taking  off  our  soaked 
clothes,  and  wrapping  ourselves  in  our  blankets  on  some 
dry  knoll,  where  we  slept. 

“But  as  there  was  an  uncommonly  sharp  frost  on  the 
night  of  the  2d  of  April,  and  as  our  clothes,  which  were 
completely  saturated,  were  stiff  as  sticks  in  the  morning, 
we  could  not  put  them  on  without  making  a fire  to  thaw 
them.  This  betrayed  us  to  the  Indians,  who  were  en- 
camped across  the  marsh.  They  ran  towards  us  with 
loud  cries,  but  were  stopped  half-way  by  a water-course, 
which  they  could  not  get  over,  as  the  ice  was  not  strong 
enough. 

“We  went  towards  them  within  gunshot,  and,  whether 
our  fire-arms  frightened  them,  or  whether  they  thought 
there  were  more  of  us  than  there  really  were,  or  whether, 
in  fact,  they  meant  us  no  harm,  they  called  out  in 
the  Illinois  language  that  they  had  taken  us  for  Iroquois, 
but  now  saw  that  we  were  brothers;  whereupon  they  went 


ROBERT  CA  VELIER  DE  LA  SALLE 


54& 


off  as  they  came,  and  we  kept  on  our  way  till  the  4 th,  when 
two  of  my  men  fell  sick  and  could  not  travel.” 

This  is  but  one  of  a hundred  examples  that  might  be 
cited — examples  which  show  the  daring  energy  and  heroic 
nature  of  La  Salle.  But  his  mettle  was  tried  to  the  utmost. 
In  about  seventy  days  he  reached  Fort  Frontenac.  and  the 
most  distressing  iatelligence  filled  his  ears  from  every  side. 

The  loss  of  the  Griffin  was  confirmed.  The  news  of  dis 
aster  after  disaster  fell  upon  him  like  an  avalanche.  His 
agents  had  plundered  him,  his  creditors  had  seized  his  prop- 
erty, a band  of  laborers  on  the  way  to  join  him  had  been 
persuaded  to  desert,  some  of  his  canoes  richly  laden  with 
furs  had  been  lost  in  the  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  a 
ship  from  France,  freighted  with  goods  to  the  value  of 
22,000  Livres,  had  been  totally  wrecked. 

Yet  every  difficulty  had  given  way  before  the  indomitable 
La  Salle.  He  had  succeeded  in  collecting  men,  canoes,  and 
supplies,  and  was  on  the  point  of  hastening  back  as  he  had 
come,  for  the  relief  of  Tonti  and  the  men  left  with  him  at  Fort 
Crevecoeur,  on  the  Illinois,  when  two  Canadians,  dispatched 
by  that  officer,  brought  him  worse  tidings  than  all  the  rest. 
Tonti  wrote  that  nearly  all  his  men  had  deserted,  after  de 
stroying  the  fort,  plundering  the  magazine,  and  throwing 
into  the  river  all  the  arms,  goods,  and  stores  that  they  could 
not  carry  off. 

La  Salle  lost  no  time  in  lamentation.  He  soon  learned 
that  the  deserters  had  passed  Niagara,  and  were  on  the  way 
to  Fort  Frontenac,  where  he  then  was,  intending  to  kill  him 
wherever  they  might  find  him,  as  the  surest  way  to  escape 
punishment.  He  did  not  await  their  approach,  but  went  to 
meet  them  with  such  men  as  he  had,  discovered  them  on 
Lake  Ontario,  and  captured  ail  but  two,  who  made  fight 
and  were  shot  by  his  followers.  This  was  one  point  gamed. 

Like  a brave  commander,  he  next  bent  all  nis  thoughts  to 
succoring  Tonti  and  the  three  or  lour  faithful  men  wfio 
remained  with  him  at  the  Illinois  A deep  anxiety  pos 
sessed  him.  For  some  time  past  a rumor  had  spread  that 
the  Iroquois,  encouraged,  as  he  believed,  by  his  enemies^ 


650 


ROEERl  CA  VELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


were  preparing  a grand  inroad  into  the  valley  of  the  Illi- 
nois, which  threatened  to  involve  in  a common  destruction 
tPe  tribes  of  that  quarter  and  the  infant  colony  of  La  Salle. 
The  danger  was  but  too  real. 

He  was  but  half-way  to  his  destination  when  a host  of 
Iroquois  warriors  fell  upon  Tonti  and  his  Indian  allies,  and 
filled  the  valley  of  the  Illinois  with  carnage  and  devasta- 
tion When,  after  a long  and  weary  Journey,  the  dauntless 
La  Salle  and  his  followers  reached  the  great  town  of  the 
Illinois,  where  he  hoped  to  find  his  lieutenant,  he  beheld  a 
most  ghastly  scene. 

”On  the  1st  of  December,”  he  says,  “we  arrived  near 
evening  at  the  town,  and  found  nothing  but  ashes  and  the 
relics  of  Iroquois  fury.  Everything  was  destroyed,  and 
nothing  remained  but  the  stumps  of  burned  lodge -poles, 
which  showed  what  had  been  the  extent  of  the  village,  and 
on  most  of  which  were  stuck  dead  men’s  heads,  half  eaten 
by  the  crows.  The  fields  were  strewn  with  carcasses, 
gnawed  by  wolves.  The  scaffolds  on  which  the  dead  had 
been  placed  in  the  cemetery  were  all  torn  down,  and  such 
of  the  bodies  as  had  been  buried  were  dug  up  and  scattered 
over  the  ground.  The  wolves  were  tearing  them  before  our 
eyes,  with  strange  bowlings.”  ' 

La  Salle  and  his  men  sought  till  night  for  traces  of  Tonti 
and  his  few  companions,  but  in  vain  they  searched.  Tonti 
was  not  tc  be  found.  They  encamped  on  the  spot.  “I 
passed  the  night  full  of  trouble,”  writes  the  great  explorer. 
”I  could  not  sleep,  but  tried  in  vain  to  make  up  my  mind  as 
TC  what  I ought  to  do.” 

But  he  was  no  dreamer.  Ever  “up  and  doing,  with  a 
heart  for  any  fate,”  he  again  set  out  in  search  for  his  lieu- 
tenant, and  passed  down  the  Illinois  till  he  came  to  the 
Mississippi  From  a rock  on  the  banks  of  the  great  river 
he  saw  a tree  leaning  towards  the  water.  He  stripped  it  of 
Its  bark,  in  order  to  make  it  more  conspicuous,  hung  upon 


The  foreeoing  brie'  descripbOE  oi  La  Salle’a  remarkable  journey  from  Fort  Crevecoeui  to  Port 
Frontenac  ano  back  U taken  wiln  pome  slight  changes,  from  Parkman’s  article  on  La  Salle,  la 
Tfu  Nort/i  Anterican  Ktview  to;  Novemoei  1877. 


ROBERT  CA  VERIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


551 


it  a board,  on  which  he  had  drawn  figures  of  himself  and 
his  men,  seated  in  their  canoe,  and  bearing  a pipe  of  peace. 
To  this  he  tied  a letter  for  Tonti,  informing  him  that  he 
had  returned  up  the  river  to  the  ruined  village.' 

La  Salle  now  pushed  up  the  Illinois,  and  arrived  at  the 
junction  of  the  Kankakee  with  that  river,  early  in  January, 
1681.  Here  he  lefc  his  canoes,  and  with  his  four  men  began 
an  overland  journey  to  Fort  Miami  on  the  St.  Joseph  river, 
a post  which  he  had  established  two  years  before. 

Snow  fell  in  profusion,  till  the  earth  was  deeply  buried. 
So  light  and  dry  was  it,  that  to  walk  on  snow-shoes  was  im- 
possible; and  La  Salle  after  his  custom  took  the  lead,  to  break 
the  path  and  cheer  on  his  followers.  Despite  his  taU 
stature,  he  often  waded  through  drifts  to  the  waist,  while  the 
men  toiled  on  behind — the  snow,  shaken  from  the  burdened 
twigs,  showering  on  them  as  they  passed.  After  excessive 
fatigue  they  reached  their  goal,  and  found  shelter  and 
safety  within  the  walls  of  Fort  Miami.” 

Here  La  Salle  might  have  brooded  on  the  redoubled  ruin  that 
had  befallen  him — the  desponding  friends,  the  exulting  foes, 
the  wasted  energies,  the  crushing  load  of  debt,  the  stormy 
past,  the  black  and  lowering  future.  But  his  mind  was  of 
a different  temper.  He  had  no  thought  but  to  grapple 
with  adversity,  and  out  of  the  fragments  of  his  ruin  to  rear 
the  fabric  of  a triumphant  success.” 

He  would  not  recoil;  but  he  modified  his  plans  to  meet 
the  new  contingency.  His  white  enemies  had  found,  or 
rather  perhaps  had  made,  a savage  ally  in  the  Iroquois. 
Their  incursion  must  be  stopped,  or  his  enterprise  would 
come  to  naught;  and  he  thought  he  saw  the  means  by  which 
this  new  danger  could  be  converted  into  a source  of 
strength.  The  tribes  of  the  West,  threatened  by  the  com- 
mon enemy,  might  be  taught  to  forget  their  mutual  animos- 
ities, and  join  in  a defensive  league,  with  La  Salle  at  its 


> Parkman. 

• Parkman. 

Port  Miami  was  on  the  St.  Joseph,  by  the  borders  of  Lake  Michigan 
•Ib. 


552 


ROBERT  CA  VERIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


head.  They  might  be  colonized  around  his  fort  in  the  val- 
ley of  the  Illinois,  where,  in  the  shadow  of  the  French  flag, 
and  with  the  aid  of  French  allies,  they  could  hold  the  Iro- 
quois in  check,  and  acquire,  in  some  measure,  the  arts  of 
settled  life.  The  Franciscan  Fathers  could  teach  them  the 
Faith;  and  La  Salle  and  his  associates  could  supply  them 
with  goods,  in  exchange  for  the  vast  harvest  of  furs  which 
their  hunters  could  gather  in  these  boundless  wilds.  Mean- 
while he  would  seek  out  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi;  and 
the  furs  gathered  at  his  colony  in  the  Illinois  would  then 
find  a ready  passage  to  the  markets  of  the  world.  Thus 
might  the  ancient  slaughter- field  of  warring  savages  be 
redeemed  to  civilization  and  Christianity;  and  a stable  set- 
tlement might  grow  up  in  the  heart  of  the  western  wilder- 
ness. The  scheme  was  but  a new  feature,  the  result  of  new 
circumstances,  added  to  the  original  plan  of  his  great  en- 
terprise; and  he  addressed  himself  to  its  execution  with 
his  usual  vigor,  and  with  an  address  which  never  failed  him 
in  his  dealings  with  Indians.  * 

A great  council  of  the  Miamis  was  soon  called.  Chiefs 
grizzly  with  age,  and  others  haughty  with  the  strength  of 
younger  manhood,  came.  La  Salle  eloquently  harangued 
the  dusky  concourse.  His  words,  backed  up  by  gifts,  pro- 
duced a deep  impression.  “We  make  you  the  master  of 
our  beaver  and  our  lands,”  they  exclaimed,  “of  our  minds 
and  our  bodies.”  Could  La  Salle  have  wished  for  anything 
morel 

But  the  enterprise  so  often  defeated — the  discovery  of 
the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi — was  yet  to  be  achieved.  To 
this  end  he  set  out  to  return  to  Canada.  It  was  in  May. 
On  touching  at  Mackinaw,  to  his  great  joy  he  found  Tonti 
and  Father  Membre.  Each  had  a tale  of  disaster  for  the 
other,  but  La  Salle  was  as  calm  and  determined  as  if  the  sun 
of  prosperity  shone  brightly  on  his  adventurous  pathway. 

“Any  one  else,”  writes  Father  Membre,  “would  have 
thrown  up  his  hands,  and  abandoned  the  enterprise ; but. 


. FkrknuuL 


LA  SALLE  CLAIMS  THE  MISSISSIPPI  VALLEY  FOR  FRANCE 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


553 


far  from  this,  with  a firmness  and  constancy  that  never  had 
its  equal,  I saw  him  more  resolved  than  ever  to  continue 
his  work  and  push  forward  his  discovery.” 

La  Salle  and  his  men  now  turned  tlie  frail  prows  of  their 
canoes  for  Fort  Frontenac.  It  was  more  than  a thousand 
• miles  away,  but  was  soon  reached.  Here  vigorous  prepa- 
rations were  begun  anew,  and  everything  for  a fresh  expedi 
tion  was,  with  as  little  delay  as  possible,  in  readiness. 


CHAPTER  in. 

THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI  DISCOVEEED. 

The  expedition  down  the  Father  of  Waters — “ The  ioaf 
the  sea!  the  open  sea!" — Taking  formal  possession  of  the 
Mississippi  Y alley  for  France — Attempts  at  coloniza- 
tion— Difficulties — Wanderings — The  last  tragic  jour- 
ney towards  the  north — Traitors  in  the  camp — Father 
Douay's  account  of  La  Salld  s assassination — His 
character  as  depicted  by  several  distinguished  writers. 

Winter  had  scarcely  relaxed  his  icy  grasp  on  the  great 
rivers  of  the  West,  when  the  indefatigable  explorer,  with  a 
few  Franciscan  priests,  twenty- three  Frenchmen,  and  eigh- 
teen Indians — all  inured  to  war — directed  their  course 
towards  the  Mississippi.  Floating  down  the  Illinois  river, 
they  reached  the  “Father  of  Waters”  in  February,  1682. 
Without  delay,  they  began  the  descent  of  the  mighty 
stream.  As  they  pressed  on,  they  frequently  came  in  contact 
with  the  Indians,  whom  La  Salle  won  by  his  eloquence  and 
engaging  manners.  We  are  told  that,  after  the  Indian 
mode,  he  was  “the  greatest  orator  in  North  America.” 

The  missionaries  also  announced  the  words  of  truth  to 
the  savages.  “As  the  great  explorer  pursued  his  course 
down  the  Mississippi,”  writes  Bancroft,  “his  sagacious  eye 
discerned  the  magnificent  resources  of  the  country.”  At 
every  point  where  they  landed.  La  Salle  planted  a cross. 
He  was  most  zealous  for  the  Faith.  Finally,  after  many 
adventures,  too  numerous  to  recount  here,  the  mouth  of  the 
great  river  was  reached,  and  they  beheld — 

“The  sea!  the  sea!  the  open  sea, 

The  blue,  the  fresh,  the  ever  free.” 

On  the  9th  of  April,  La  Salle  took  possession  of  the 
554 


ROBERT  CA  VERIER  DE  LA  SALLE. 


555 


country  in  the  name  of  Louis  XIY.  For  this  purpose  he 
had  a cross  erected,  while  the  whole  party  chanted  the 
Vexilla  Regis: 

“The  banners  of  Heaven’s  King  advance, 

The  mystery  of  the  cross  shines  forth.” 

The  ceremony  was  finished  with  the  Te  Deum,  and  the 
raising  of  a column  with  the  following  inscription:  “Louis 
the  Great,  King  of  France  and  Navarre,  reigns;  the  9th 
of  April,  1682.”  Then,  “amid  a volley  from  all  our 
muskets,”  writes  Father  Membre,  “a  leaden  plate,  in- 
scribed with  the  arms  of  France  and  the  names  of  those 
who  had  just  made  the  discovery,  was  deposited  in  the 
earth.” 

By  his  energy  and  enterprise,  La  Salle  had  now  explored 
from  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  In 
honor  of  his  sovereign  he  named  all  the  temtory  along  the 
majestic  river,  Louisiana — a, name,  at  present,  restricted  to 
one  State. 

Turning,  he  ascended  the  Mississippi,  and  sailed  for 
France,  in  order  to  secure  the  assistance  of  Louis  XIV., 
and  the  co-operation  of  his  countrymen  in  colonizing 
the  great  valley,  and  in  developing  its  immense  natural  re- 
sources. Success  seemed  to  smile  on  his  plans.  The  Gov- 
ernment provided  him  with  four  ships,  and  a large  number 
of  persons  was  soon  enlisted  in  his  scheme.  In  July,  1684, 
he  bade  adieu  for  the  last  time  to  the  shores  of  sunny 
France;  and  with  his  ships  and  two  hundred  and  eighty 
persons,  including  three  Franciscan  Fathers  and  three  secu- 
lar priests,  well  supplied  with  all  the  necessaries  to  plant  a 
colony  at  flie  mouth  of  the  Mississippi,  he  directed  his 
course  across  the  Atlantic. 

But  the  entrance  of  the  “Father  of  Waters”  was  hard  to 
find.  La  Salle  missed  it,  went  westward,  and  early  in  1685 
landed  his  colony  at  Matagorda  Bay,  in  Texas,  where  he 
built  Fort  St.  Louis.  In  the  choice  of  his  men,  he  soon  found 
that  he  had  made  an  unhappy  mistake.  They  were  largely 
composed  of  vagabonds  picked  up  on  the  streets  ef  Rochelle, 


656 


ROBERT  CA  VERIER  BE  LA  bALLB. 


and  their  conduct  was  in  keeping  with  their  character,  as 
events  unfortunately  proved. 

After  several  vain  attempts  to  reach  the  mouth  of  the 
Mississippi  by  sea,  La  Salle  resolved  to  strike  out  for  it  by 
land.  Father  Douay,  O.  S.  F.,  his  chaplain,  has  left  us  a 
minute  account  of  their  adventurous  course  over  plains, 
forests,  rocks,  and  rivers.  But  after  six  months’  fruitless 
wanderings  they  were  obliged  to  return  to  Fort  St.  Louis. 
Here  La  Salle  heard  that  his  last  vessel  was  wrecked.  Any 
other  man  would  have  thrown  up  his  hands  in  despair. 
But  with  the  giant  energy  of  an  indomitable  will,  having 
lost  his  hopes  of  fame  and  fortune,  he  now  resolved  to  travel 
on  foot  to  his  countrymen  at  the  North,  and  return  from  Can- 
ada to  renew  his  colony  in  Texas. 

Accompanied  by  a few  priests  and  twenty  men,  he  set 
out  on  this  immense  journey  early  in  1687.  For  nearly  two 
months  and  a half  the  travelers  boldly  forced  their  way, 
despite  the  hardships  to  be  endured  from  a wintry  climate, 
despite  the  countless  obstacles  offered  by  a savage  country. 

In  this  brief  sketch  it  would  be  as  needless  as  impossible 
to  follow  the  detail  of  their  daily  march.  It  was  such  a 
one,  though  with  unwonted  hardships,  as  is  familiar  to  the 
memory  of  many  a prairie  traveler  of  our  own  time.  They 
suffered  greatly  for  the  want  of  shoes,  and  found  for  awhile 
no  better  substitute  than  a casing  of  raw  buffalo-hide, 
which  they  were  forced  to  keep  always  wet,  as  when  dry 
it  hardened  about  the  foot  like  iron.  At  length  they 
bought  dressed  deer-skin  from  the  Indians,  of  which  they 
made  tolerable  moccasins.  The  rivers,  streams,  and  gul- 
leys  filled  with  water,  were  without  number;  and,  to  cross 
them,  they  made  a boat  of  bull-hide,  like  the  “bull  boat” 
still  used  on  the  Upper  Missouri.  This  did  good  service,  as, 
with  the  help  of  their  horses,  they  could  carry  it  with  them. 
Two  or  three  men  could  cross  in  it  at  once,  and  the  horses 
swam  after  them  like  dogs.  * 

Sometimes  they  traversed  the  sunny  prairie;  sometimes 


^ Piurkmazi, 


UUBtllKT  VA  VELIEH  DE  LA  HALLE.  557 

dked  into  the  dark  recesses  of  the  forest,  where  the  buffalo, 
descending  daily  from  their  pastures  in  long  files  to  drink 
at  the  river,  often  made  a broad  and  easy  path  for  the  trav- 
elers. When  foul  weather  arrested  them,  they  built  huts  of 
bark  and  long  meadow-grass;  and,  safely  sheltered,  lounged 
away  the  day,  while  their  horses,  picketed  near  by,  stood 
steaming  in  the  rain.  At  night,  they  usually  set  a rude 
stockade  about  their  camp;  and  here,  by  the  grassy  border 
of  a brook,  or  at  the  edge  of  a grove  where  a spring  bubbled 
up  through  the  sands,  they  lay  asleep  around  the  embers 
of  their  fire,  while  the  man  on  guard  listened  to  the  deep 
breathing  of  the  slumbering  horses,  and  the  howling  of  the 
wolves  that  saluted  the  rising  moon  as  it  flooded  the  waste 
of  prairie  with  pale,  mystic  radiance. ‘ 

On  the  15th  of  March  the  bold  travelers  arrived  near  a 
place  where  La  Salle,  on  his  preceding  journey,  had  caused 
a quantity  of  Indian  corn  and  beans  to  be  buried.  The 
commander  sent  seven  men  to  hunt  up  this  underground 
stock  of  provisions.  They  killed  two  buffaloes  on  reaching 
the  place,  and  one  of  their  number  returned  to  La  Salle, 
requesting  the  use  of  the  horses  to  bring  the  meat  to  the 
camp.  He  complied,  sending  his  nephew,  Morganet,  with 
two  companions  and  two  horses. 

On  the  arrival  of  Morganet  at  the  spot  where  the  dead 
buffaloes  lay,  a dispute  arose  between  him  and  several  of  the 
party — men  who  hated  La  Salle,  and  nursed  dark  designs. 
Angry  words  passed  around.  Night  came.  The  woods  grew 
dark;  and  before  morning  dawned  Morganet  and  two  others, 
devoted  followers  of  their  commander,  were  murdered. 
It  was  a bloody  deed.  The  flood-gate  of  assassination  was 
now  open;  and  those  desperate  men  took  evil  counsel  of 
vengeance  for  their  own  safety.  One  black  crime  led  to 
another,  still  blacker. 

La  Salle  soon  became  alarmed  for  the  safety  of  Morganet, 
and,  as  if  anticipating  what  had  occurred,  he  asked  in  the 
encampment  if  some  of  the  absent  party  had  not  shown 


k Parkman. 


558 


ROBERT  CA  VERIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


signs  of  disaffection.  He  resolved  at  once  to  go  in  search  ol 
his  nephew.  We  shall  give  the  remainder  of  the  tragic  nar- 
rative in  the  language  of  an  eye-witness. 

“Asking  me  to  accompany  him,”  writes  Father  Douay,  “he 
took  two  Indians  and  set  out.  All  the  way  he  conversed 
with  me  in  relation  to  matters  of  piety,  grace,  and  predesti- 
nation, expatiating  on  all  his  obligations  to  God  for  having 
saved  him  from  so  many  dangers  during  the  last  twenty 
years  that  he  had  traversed  America.  He  seemed  to  me 
jjarticularly  penetrated  with  a sense  of  God’s  benefits  to 
him 

“Suddenly  I saw  him  plunged  into  a deep  melancholy, 
for  which  he  himself  could  not  account.  He  was  so  troubled 
that  1 did  not  know  him  any  longer.  As  this  was  far  from 
his  usual  state,  I roused  him  from  his  lethargy. 

“Two  leagues  after,  we  found  the  bloody  cravat  of  his 
lackey.  He  perceived  two  eagles  flying  over  his  head,  and 
at  the  same  time  saw  some  of  his  people  on  the  edge  of  the 
river,  which  he  approached,  asking  them  what  had  become 
of  his  nephew. 

“They  answered  us  in  broken  words,  showing  us  where 
we  should  find  him.  We  proceeded  some  steps  along  the 
bank  to  the  fatal  spot  where  two  of  these  murderers  were 
hidden  in  the  grass,  one  on  each  side,  with  guns  cocked. 
One  missed  M de  la  Salle,  the  other  at  the  same  moment 
shot  him  in  the  head.  He  died  an  hour  after,  on  the  19th 
of  March,  1687. 

“I  expected  the  same  fate,”  continues  Father  Douay, 
“but  this  danger  did  not  occupy  my  thoughts,  penetrated 
with  grief  at  so  cruel  a spectacle.  I saw  him  fall  a step 
from  me,  with  his  face  all  full  of  blood.  I watered  it  with 
my  tears,  exhorting  him,  to  the  best  of  my  power,  to  die  well. 
He  had  confessed  and  fulfilled  his  devotions  just  before  we 
started.  He  had  still  time  to  recapitulate  a part  of  his  life, 
and  1 gave  him  absolution. 

“During  his  last  moments,  he  elicited  all  the  acts  of  a 


• A southern  branch  ot  the  Trinity.— PariTOon. 


ROBERT  CA  VELIER  DE  LA  SALLE. 


559 


good  Christian,  grasping  my  hand  at  every  word  I sug- 
gested, and  especially  at  that  of  pardoning  his  enemies. 
Meanwhile  Ms  murderers,  as  much  alarmed  as  I,  began  to 
strike  their  breasts  and  detest  their  blindness.  I could  not 
leave  the  spot  where  he  had  expired  without  having  buried 
him  as  well  as  I could,  after  which  I raised  a cross  over  his 
grave. 

“Thus  died  our  wise  commander — constant  in  adversity, 
intrepid,  generous,  engaging,  dexterous,  skillful,  capable  of 
everything.  He  who  for  twenty  years  had  softened  the 
fierce  temper  of  countless  savage  tribes  was  massacred  by 
the  hands  of  his  own  followers,  whom  he  had  loaded  with 
caresses.  He  died  in  the  prime  of  life,  in  the  midst  of  his 
course  and  labors,  without  having  seen  their  success.’' 

The  capacity  of  La  Salle,  writes  Sparks,  “for  large  de- 
signs and  for  devising  the  methods  and  procuring  the  re- 
sources to  carry  them  forward,  has  few  parallels  among  the 
most  eminent  discoverers.  He  has  been  called  the  Colum- 
bus of  his  age;  and  if  his  success  had  been  equal  to  his 
ability  and  the  compass  of  his  plans,  this  distinction  might 
be  justly  awarded  to  him.  As  in  great  battles,  so  in  enter- 
prises, success  crowns  the  commander  with  laurels,  defeat 
covers  him  with  disgrace,  and  perhaps  draws  upon  him  the 
obloquy  of  the  world,  although  he  might  have  fought  as 
bravely  and  maneuvered  as  adroitly  in  one  case  as  in  the 
other.  Fortune  turns  the  scale,  and  baffles  the  efforts  ot 
human  skill  and  prowess.  In  some  of  the  higher  attributes 
of  character,  such  as  personal  courage  and  endurance,  un- 
daunted resolution,  patience  under  trials,  and  perseverance 
in  contending  with  obstacles  and  struggling  through  ‘em- 
barrassments that  might  appall  the  stoutest  heart,  no  man 
surpassed  the  Sieur  de  la  Salle. 

“Not  a hint  appears  in  any  writer  that  has  come  under 
notice  that  casts  a shade  upon  his  integrity  or  honor.  Cool 
and  intrepid  at  all  times,  never  yielding  for  a moment  to 
despair,  or  even  to  despondency,  he  bore  the  heavy  burden 
of  his  calamities  manfully  to  the  end,  and  his  hopes  expired 
only  with  his  last  breath.  To  him  must  be  mainly  ascribed 


560 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  BE  LA  SALLE. 


the  discovery  of  the  vast  regions  of  the  Mississippi  Valley, 
and  the  subsequent  occupation  and  settlement  of  them  by 
the  French,  and  his  name  justly  holds  a prominent  place 
among  those  which  adorn  the  history  of  civilization  in  the 
New  World  ’’ 

‘ Next  to  Columbus,”  says  Abbott,  “ he  was  the  most  illus- 
trious of  the  pioneers  of  the  New  World.  It  would  be  dif- 
ficult to  find  in  history  any  one  who  has  displayed  in  a 
higher  degree  the  noble  qualities  of  energy,  courage,  and 
perseverance,  combined  with  the  more  gentle  virtues  of  ten- 
derness, humanity,  and  amiability.  Adversity  seemed  to  have 
no  power  to  dishearten  him.  His  character  was  pure.  In 
the  past  history  ol  our  country,  there  are  but  few  names 
which  are  entitled  to  stand  so  high  on  its  roll  of  fame,  as 
that  of  the  Chevalier  de  la  Salle.” 

It  is  easy,”  exclaims  Parkman,  “to  reckon  up  his  defects, 
but  it  is  not  easy  to  hide  from  sight  the  Roman  virtues  that 
redeemed  them.  Beset  by  a throng  of  enemies,  he  stands, 
like  the  King  ol  Israel,  head  and  shoulders  above  them  all. 
He  was  a tower  of  adamant,  against  whose  impregnable 
front  hardship  and  danger,  the  rage  of  man  and  of  the  ele- 
ments, the  Southern  sun,  the  Northern  blast,  fatigue,  fam- 
ine, and  disease,  delay,  disappointmon',  and  deferred  hope, 
emptied  their  quivers  in  vain.  That  very  pride  which,  Cori- 
olanus-like,  declared  itself  more  sternly  in  the  thickest  press 
ol  foes,  has  in  it  something  to  challenge  admiration.  Never, 
under  the  impenetrable  mail  of  paladin  or  crusader,  beat  a 
heart  ol  more  intrepid  mettle  than  within  the  stoic  pan- 
oply that  armed  the  breast  of  La  Salle.  To  estimate  aright 
the  marvels  of  his  patient  fortitude,  one  must  follow  on  his 
track  through  the  vast  scene  of  his  interminable  joumey- 
ings,  those  thousands  of  weary  miles  of  forest,  marsh,  and 
river,  where,  again  and  again,  in  the  bitterness  of  baffled 
striving  the  untiring  pilgrim  pushed  onward  towards  the 
goal  which  he  was  never  to  attain.  America  owes  him  an 
enduring  memory ; for  in  this  masculine  figure,  cast  in  iron, 
she  sees  the  heroic  pioneer  who  guided  her  to  the  posses- 
sion of  her  richest  heritage.” 


'Ml  EM 


ROBERT  CAVELIER  DE  LA  SALLE. 


561 


“Robert  Cavelier  de  la  Salle,  the  first  explorer  who  navi- 
gated Ontario,  Erie,  Michigan,  and  Huron,”  writes  the  Hon. 

T.  D.  McGee,  “ deserves  to  be  enumerated  among  the  great 
captains.  A native  of  Rouen,  early  employed  in  the  colo- 
nies, he  had  been  instigated  by  the  reports  of  missionaries  to 
seek,  through  the  northern  lakes,  a passage  to  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  Building  a schooner  on  the  Cayuga  creek,  he 
ascended  the  lakes  in  1679,  chanting  the  Te  Deum.  Carry- 
ing his  boats  overland  from  the  Miami  to  a branch  of  the 
Illinois  river,  he  forced  or  found  his  way  into  the  Upper 
Mississippi.  For  many  years,  with  most  heroic  constancy, 
this  soul  of  fire  and  frame  of  iron  was  devoted  to  the  task 
of  opening  routes  between  the  Gulfs  of  St.  Lawrence  and  of  , 
Mexico,  until  he  perished  in  his  enterprise  by  the  hands  of 
two  of  his  own  unworthy  followers,  on  an  excursion  into 
Texas,  in  1687. 

“ The  Catholic  character  of  LaSalle  is  marked  in  every 
act  of  his  life.  He  undertook  nothing  without  fortifying  him- 
self by  religion;  he  completed  nothing  without  giving  the 
first  fruits  of  the  glory  to  God.  He  planted  the  Cross 
wherever  he  landed,  even  for  an  hour ; he  made  the  western 
desert  vocal  with  songs,  hymns  of  thanksgiving,  and  adora- 
tion.  He  is  the  worthy  compeer  of  De  Soto  and  Marquette; 
he  stood,  sword,  in  hand,  under  the  banner  of  the  Cross,  the 
tutelary  genius  of  those  great  States  which  stretch  away 
from  Lake  Ontario  to  the  Rio  Grande.  Every  league  of 
that  region  he  trod  on  foot,  and  every  league  of  its  water 
he  navigated  in  frail  canoes  or  crazy  schooners.  Above  his 
tomb  the  Northern  pine  should  tower;  around  it  the  Michi- 
gan rose  and  the  Southern  myrtle  should  mingle  their  hues 
and  unite  their  perfumes.” 


VENERABLE  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS, 

FOUNDRESS  OF  THE  CONGREGATION  DE  NOTRE  DAME.' 


CHAPTER  L 

BRIGHT  YOUNG  YEARS. 

Her  birth  and  parents — A wise,  promisiny  little  girl—’ 
Death  of  her  mother — Is  placed  oner  her  fathers  house- 
hold— The  nision  at  the  Church  of  Notre  Dame — A 
change  of  life. 

Conspicuous  among  the  Catholic  heroes  and  heroines  of 
America,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  shines  the  bright 
name  of  Margaret  Bourgeois.  She  was  born  in  the  city  of 
Troyes,  France,  on  the  17th  of  April,  1620.  Her  parents, 
Abram  Bourgeois  and  Guillemette  Gamier,  were  remarkable 
neither  for  wealth  nor  wordly  distinction,  but  they  were 
what  is  better — persons  of  marked  virtue  and  high  char- 
acter. 

We  are  told  that  in  her  childhood,  Margaret  was  distin- 
guished among  her  little  companions  by  her  aptitude  in 
learning  to  read  and  write,  her  love  of  labor,  and  her  tact 
in  well  and  speedily  performing  anything  which  she  was 
given  to  do.  She  w’as  also  especially  noted  for  those  happy 
dispositions  which  announce  a capacity  for  piety,  virtue, 
and  good  sense. 

Even  at  the  most  tender  age,  her  elevation  of  mind  and 


■Chief  authorities  used:  Abbe  Faillon,  “Vie  de  la  Soeur  Bourgeoys,  Fondatrice  de  la  Congre- 
gation de  Notre  Dame  de  Ville  Marie  en  Canada;”  Abb6  Ransonet,  “Vie  de  Marguerite  Bour- 
geoys;”  Abbe  Montgolfier,  “ Vie  de  M’lle  Le  Ber.”  Abbfi  Faillon,  “Vie  de  M'lle  Mance;’ 
Parhman,  “The  Jesuits  in  North  America;”  Abbe  Ferland,  “Cours  D'Histoire  du  Canada;” 
Charlevoix,  “ History  and  General  Description  of  New  France;”  “ History  of  the  Catholic  Church 
in  the  United  States.” 


663 


564 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


deep  love  of  religion  showed  itself  in  various  ways.  Scarcely 
had  the  little  girl  reached  her  tenth  year,  when  she  was 
often  observed  assembling  children,  and  instilling  into  their 
minds  ideas  of  duty  and  virtue.  Yet  up  to  this  time  she 
had  never  seen  a religious  community.  Such  is  a glimpse  at 
the  childhood  of  Margaret  Bourgeois.  “May  not  this  be 
considered,”  says  the  Abbe  Ransonet,  “as  a spark  of  that 
admirable  zeal  which  inflamed  her  soul  in  after  years  ?” 

About  this  period  little  Margaret  had  the  misfortune  to 
lose  her  devoted  mother.  Two  or  three  years  passed  away, 
under  the  watchful  eye  of  her  good,  enlightened  father ; 
and  her  prudence  and  sound  judgment  in  the  management  of 
affairs  developed  so  rapidly  that  he  no  longer  hesitated  to 
place  his  daughter  at  the  head  of  his  household.  To  her 
this  new  appointment  was  a blessing.  It  was  a protection 
against  idleness,  and  happily  tended  to  preserve  her  pure 
and  innocent  in  the  critical  period  of  life  at  which  she  had 
now  arrived — 

“ The  shining  days  when  life  is  new. 

And  all  is  bright  as  morning  dew." 

Meanwhile  young  Margaret  felt  satisfied  in  avoiding  nota- 
ble defects.  It  was  not,  however,  before  her  twenty-first 
year,  that  her  desire  after  something  better  and  higher  be- 
came enlarged  by  the  following  incidents  : 

While  attending  one  of  the  churches  <^i3  the  Festival  of 
the  Holy  Rosary,  the  concourse  of  people  did  not  permit 
the  procession,  as  usual,  to  be  made  in  the  enclosure,  and  it 
was  conducted  through  the  street.  It  passed  before  the 
famous  and  beautiful  church  of  Notre  Dame.  At  this  mo- 
ment, Margaret  looked  towards  the  statue  of  the  Most  Holy 
Virgin,  placed  on  the  frontispiece  of  the  grand  edifice. 
To  her  religious  eye  this  image  was  no  stranger  ; but  now 
it  appeared  to  her  of  a loveliness  so  extraordinary,  that  her 
heart  was  touched  and  filled  with  heavenly  sentiments. 
Hitherto  she  had  been  fond  of  dress,  and  affected  neatness. 
For  these  the  young  lady  now  felt  a profound  contempt. 
Her  sweet  and  cheerful  disposition  had  caused  her  to  be 
much  sought  in  society,  in  which  she  took  no  common 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


563 


pleasure  ; but  at  once  she  separated  from  all  that  she  for- 
merly seemed  to  cherish.  Now,  the  gay  and  amiable  Mar- 
garet cared  for  naught  but  the  things  of  Heaven.  This 
change  wi»s  indeed  sudden,  but  it  was  none  the  less  penna- 
nant. 


CHAPTER  II. 

A NEW  AND  HEROIC  CAREER. 

FatTier  Jandret — Lofty  virtue — Purity  of  mind  and  heart — 
The  vow — Margaret  wishes  to  be  a Nun — Is  refused- 
admittance — A new  Order — A loss  that  is  a gain — Her 
father's  death — Protects  innocence — A dream — Gov.  De 
Maisonneuve — Dificulties  come  and  vanish — The  hero- 
ine goes  to  Canada. 

Taking  Rev.  Father  Jandret,  a wise  and  virtuous  priest 
who  was  director  of  the  Carmelite  Nuns,  as  her  confessor. 
Miss  Bourgeois  soon  made  rapid  progress  in  the  way  of  vir- 
tue. Her  life  was  marked  by  tender  piety,  contempt  of  the 
world,  self-denial,  compassion  for  the  poor — in  short,  she 
became  the  personification  of  all  that  is  good. 

God,  desirous  of  blessing  a heart  which  He  had  so  highly 
ornamented  with  His  most  precious  gifts,  placed  it  in  the 
happy  necessity  of  never  dividing  its  affections,  by  inspiring 
Miss  Bourgeois  to  consecrate  herself  to  Him  by  a vow  of 
virginity.  She  submitted  this  inspiration  to  Father  Jan- 
dret, by  whom  it  was  disapproved.  He  forbade  her  to  pro- 
nounce any  such  vow  before  the  age  of  thirty.  But  the  en- 
lightened priest,  afterwards  observing  and  admiring  the 
operations  of  divine  grace  in  this  highly  privileged  soul, 
permitted  her  to  unite  herself  more  intimately  to  God  by 
the  sacred  vow  of  virginity.  This  was  in  her  twenty-third 
year.  Some  time  later,  she  added  the  vow  of  poverty. 

Miss  Bourgeois  was  thus  advancing  in  the  spiritual  life 
when,  one  day,  as  Father  Jandret  was  enlarging  on  the  ad- 
vantages of  the  religious  state,  she  felt  a strong  inclination 
to  become  a nun.  She  sought  admittance  as  a member 
among  the  Carmelites,  and  also  the  P oor  Clares.  By  neither 
566 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


667 


was  the  young  lady  accepted.  Providence^  it  seems, 
blinded  these  reKgious  to  the  merits  of  the  applicant,  that 
no  obstacle  might  prevent  the  execution  of  the  decrees  of 
Heaven. 

About  this  time  Father  Jandret  was  busily  engaged  in 
forming  the  plan  of  a new  religious  community  of  women. 
He  tells  us  that  our  Divine  Lord  at  His  Ascension  left  three 
examples  to  the  devout  sex,  namely,  Mary  Magdalen., 
Martha.,  and  the  Most  Blessed  Virgin.  The  first  is  the 
model  of  contemplative  souls;  the  second  that  of  active  and 
exterior  charity;  while  the  last  included  both  contemplative 
and  active  charity.  It  was  the  last  which  this  good  priest 
intended  to  propose  to  his  community.  The  rule  which  he 
laid  down  for  its  guidance  had  been  examined  and  approved 
by  several  Doctors  of  the  Sorbonne,  and  Father  Jandret 
felt  that  the  moment  was  at  hand  to  realize  his  long-cher- 
ished expectations.  To  Miss  Bourgeois  and  two  other  young 
ladies  he  gave  the  rule  to  be  observed. 

For  that  purpose  the  three  novices  retired  to  a spacious 
apartment  given  them  by  Miss  de  Chuly,  sister  to  the 
famous  De  Maisonneuve,  then  Governor  of  Montreal,  Canada. 
One  of  these  pious  young  ladies  died  shortly  after,  and  a sec- 
ond withdrew.  This  ended  the  brief  career  of  the  new 
community.  Father  Jandret  gave  up  the  design  as  a fruit- 
less attempt.  As  for  Sister  Bourgeois,  she  derived  lasting 
advantages  from  this  short  experience  in  the  cloister.  The 
efforts  she  then  made,  under  the  direction  of  this  pious  and 
learned  priest,  served  as  a light  in  after  years  to  gnide  her 
in  the  great  undertaking  she  so  fortunately  completed  with- 
out any  human  assistance  in  the  wilds  of  Canada,  on  the 
banks  of  the  majestic  St.  Lawrence. 

In  the  meantinie,  her  father  fell  ill,  and  died.  The  lov- 
ing  care  shown  by  his  darling  daughter  on  this  sad  occasion 
demonstrates  how  far  virtue  enhances  filial  affection. 

No  sooner  did  Sister  Bourgeois  wipe  the  tears  of  sorrow 
from  her  eye,  than  she  devoted  herself  to  the  noble  activity 
of  watching  over  unprotected  innocence.  But  what  uncom- 
mon virtue  does  not  this  imply  ? Unquestionably  a large 


668 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


share  of  labor,  prayer,  mortification,  abstraction  from 
worldly  thoughts,  subdued  passions,  and  self-annihiliation. 
It  was  certainly  from  the  familiar  practice  of  these  virtues 
that  she  was  ever  stimulated  to  what  was  beautiful,  great, 
noble,  and  diflicult,  for  the  love  of  God,  and  her  neighbor, 
as  the  following  incident,  which  is  selected  from  many 
others,  will  attest : 

One  day  Sister  Bourgeois  was  informed  that  an  amiable 
and  promising  girl  had  been  carried  off  by  dissolute  men. 
Her  very  heart  bled  at  the  recital  of  the  daring  outrage 
Arming  herself  with  a crucifix,  she  fled  to  the  assistance  ot 
the  innocent  one,  and  arrived  just  in  time  to  extricate,  to 
deliver  the  lamb  from  the  the  grasp  of  the  wolves.  On 
approaching  the  abode  of  these  diabolical  wretches,  her 
moral  courage  increased,  and  she  conjured  them  in  the 
name  of  God,  whose  crucifled  likeness  she  presented,  te 
give  up  their  prey.  But  crime  was  enshrined  in  the  in- 
most recess  of  their  cruel  hearts.  To  be  freed  from  the 
importunities  of  this  courageous  lady  they  presented  a 
pistol,  threatening  her  with  instant  death  if  she  did  not 
at  once  retire.  But  it  was  to  no  purpose.  She  thought 
the  very  sacriflce  of  her  life  to  be  of  little  consideration, 
provided  she  saved  the  sweet  and  unprotected  girl  from 
infamy. 

“Wretches,”  exclaimed  Sister  Bourgeois,  with  more  than 
human  energy,  “it  is  Jesus  Christ  Himself  that  you  thus 
attack  in  the  person  of  his  children.  Know  that  sooner  or 
later  He  will  take  revenge  on  your  sacrilegious  temerity  !” 
This  apostrophe  had  an  immediate  and  electrical  effect. 
The  trembling  victim  was  restored  to  her  deliverer.  With 
what  joy  and  gratitude  did  the  beating  heart  x)f  this  pure 
amiable  girl  testify  its  feelings  to  its  savior  ! Nor  was  she 
henceforth  to  be  separated  from  her  benefactress  ; she  fol- 
lowed her  to  Canada,  where  she  became  an  ornament  to  the 
infant  establishment  of  Sister  Bourgeois. 

Sister  Bourgeois,  while  thus  laboring  for  the  salvation  of 
others,  failed  not  to  watch  over  her  own  soul.  Like  the 
Apostle  of  the  Gentiles,  she  chastised  her  body,  and 


VENERABLE  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOlti. 


569 


brouglit  it  under  subjection,  lest  after  contributing  to  the 
salvation  of  others  she  might  be  rejected  herself. 

Heaven  was  pleased  with  her  untiring  efforts.  We  are 
told  that  for  several  months,  after  receiving  Holy  Commun- 
ion, she  frequently  felt  her  heart  inflamed  with  an  inex- 
pressible love,  which  even  appeared  exteriorly  ; and  on  the 
Assumption  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  probably  in  the  year 
1650,  during  the  procession  of  the  most  holy  Sacrament 
she  raised  her  eyes  in  adoration  to  the  Sacred  Host,  and 
beheld  a child  of  incomparable  beauty.  These  favors 
were  succeeded  by  a more  distinct  knowledge  of  the  de- 
signs of  God.  In  order  to  unfold  them,  we  must  go  back 
a few  years. 

In  1640,  De  Maisonneuve  assumed,  for  the  first  time,  the 
office  of  Governor  of  Montreal.'  On  his  departure  from 
Troyes,  the  Nuns  of  the  Order  of  Father  Founder  earnestly 
entreated  to  be  allowed  to  accompany  him,  to  establish  a 
branch  of  their  community  in  the  new  colony.  Had  he 
hearkened  to  the  impulse  of  his  zeal,  he  would  have  most 
certainly  complied;  but  prudence  required  that  he  should 
wait  for  a more  favorable  moment.  He  visited  his  native 
land  some  years  subsequently.  The  ladies,  of  course,  reit- 
erated their  demand;  and  a renewal  of  promises  was  the 
only  reply  of  De  Maisonneuve. 

In  1652  De  Maisonneuve  returned  a second  time  to  France. 
About  this  peroid.  Sister  Bourgeois  perceived  in  her  sleep 
a person  whose  garb  was  partly  ecclesiastical  and  partly 
civilian,  such  as  the  French  clergy  were  wont  to  wear  in 
travelling.  This  dream  made  a more  lasting  impression  on 
her  mind  than  the  ordinary  visions  of  the  night  ever  pro- 
duced. 

Some  time  after,  as  she  was  talking  with  one  of  the  Nuns 
at  the  grate  in  the  convent  of  Notre  Dame,  Governor  de 
Maisonneuve,  whom  she  had  never  seen,  and  of  whose  ar- 
rival she  was  perfectly  ignorant,  came  to  the  convent.  She 

“ De  Maisonneuve  founded  the  city  of  Montreal.  lie  was  a man  of  stem  virtue,  stainlei# 
character , great  zeal  for  the  faith  ; and  next  to  Champlain  the  most  noble  figure  in  the  early  Hi* 
tory  of  Canada.”— ifurray,  “ History  of  Om  Caiholic  Church  in  the  United  States." 


570 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


no  sooner  saw  him,  than  she  exclaimed;  “ Behold  my  priest 
— the  very  same  I saw  in  my  dream ! ’ ’ 

She  was  fully  convinced  that  the  vision  was  supernatural. 
She  felt  that  God  thereby  gave  her  to  understand  that  He 
had  appointed  her  for  the  operation  of  some  good  work 
conjointly  with  De  Maisonneuve,  who  was  then  nothing 
more  than  a secular  as  to  his  state  of  life,  but  who  possessed 
the  eminent  virtues  of  an  ecclesiastic,  particularly  those  of 
zeal  and  prudence. 

Without  further  delay.  Sister  Bourgeois  presented  herself 
to  this  gentleman,  to  pass  under  his  protection  to  the  wilds 
of  the  Canadian  forests,  there  to  open  a school  for  the  in- 
struction of  the  Indian  girls.  Her  offer  was  gratefully 
accepted. 

Here  was  a virtuous  lady,  alone,  under  the  protection  of 
an  officer,  crossing  to  a yet  unknown,  uncivilized  part  of 
the  globe,  guided  by  naught  save  the  bright  star  of  confi 
dence  in  God ! The  consideration  of  her  delicate  situation 
alarmed  her  modesty. 

The  acknowledged  prudence  of  the  Governor  of  Montreal 
did  not  quite  tranquilize  her.  Ordinary  decorum  seemed 
to  condemn  such  a step.  But  in  the  end  faith  triumphed  over 
fear.  Her  enlightened  guide.  Father  Jandret,  fully  con- 
vinced that  his  penitent’s  call  was  from  the  Father  of  light, 
wisely  thought  that  no  difficulty  should  stop  its  execution. 
He,  however,  referred  her  to  an  enlightened  priest  to  whom 
she  had  sometimes  revealed  her  conscience.  The  latter 
likewise,  after  three  days  of  deep  deliberation,  came  to  the 
same  conclusion  as  Father  Jandret. 

The  Bishop  of  Troyes  was  then  absent  from  his  metropo- 
lis ; and  his  Yicar-General  was  consequently  consulted  on 
the  subject.  After  recommending  it  to  God,  whom  he  ar- 
dently prayed  to  direct  him,  he  too  concurred  in  the  opin- 
ion of  Father  Jandret.  This  agreement  of  sentiment  quite 
decided  the  courageous  Margaret  Bourgeois. 

In  vain  did  a scrupulous  and  timid  critic  declaim  against 
the  indiscretion  of  this  resolution.  The  success  which  fol- 
lowed proves  a sufficient  justification  of  the  proceeding.  It 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


671 


was  even  justified  by  the  miraculous  approbation  of  the 
Holy  Mother  of  God.  Sister  Bourgeois  was  one  morning 
alone  in  her  apartment,  perfectly  awake,  and  pondering 
over  occurrences  which  had  no  relation  to  her  departure 
for  Canada,  when  suddenly  there  appeared  before  her  a 
majestic  and  beautiful  lady,  clothed  in  white,  who  ad- 
dressed her  in  these  words:  “Depart,  I will  not  forsake 
you,  ” and  instantly  disappeared.  A ray  of  divine  light, 
to  which  her  heart  was  ever  open,  as  the  bosom  of  the 
sun-flower  is  expanded  to  the  genial  rays  of  the  sun, 
assured  her  that  this  personage  was  no  other  than  the 
Mother  of  God.  She  felt  a renewal  of  consolation  and 
strength. 

In  the  beginning  of  February,  1653,  Sister  Bourgeois,  hav- 
ing attained  her  thirty- third  year,  distributed  what  she  pos- 
sessed in  alms,  and  without  disclosing  her  intention  to  her 
family,  set  out  for  Canada.  Her  uncle,  Mr.  Cossard,  and 
Miss  de  Chnly  were  then  going  to  Paris.  The  Sister,  under 
some  plausible  pretence,  accompanied  them  to  the  capital. 
Scarcely  had  they  arrived,  when  Mr.  Cossard  was  recalled 
to  Troyes  on  urgent  business ; however,  before  he  left  Paris, 
his  niece  begged  him  to  accompany  her  to  some  notary  pub- 
lic, in  whose  presence  she  openly  declared  her  intentions, 
and  at  the  same  time  signed  a contract,  that  her  inheritance 
should  be  bestowed  on  her  brother  and  sister,  of  whom  Mr. 
Cossard  guardian.  The  uncle  was  startled  with  astonish- 
ment, and  remained  for  some  time  in  deep  silence,  seeming 
to  anticipate  a revocation  of  the  deed.  Being  disappointed 
in  his  anticipations,  he  used  every  effort  to  dissuade  his 
niece  from  her  course.  Affection,  tenderness,  and  even 
ridicule  were  employed,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  Margaret 
was  inflexible. 

On  Mr.  Cossard’ s return  into  Troyes,  great  excitement 
was  created  by  the  unexpected  intelligence.  Relations, 
friends,  in  fact  the  entire  city  was  in  movement,  and  doz- 
ens of  letters  were  dispatched.  But  the  ties  of  nature  and 
the  efforts  of  human  prudence  avail  naught  when  opposed 
to  the  designs  of  God. 


672 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


On  account  of  the  dress  which  our  heroine  assumed,  she 
now  became  generally  known  as  Sister  Bourgeois. 

On  her  arrival  at  Paris,  she  found  De  Maisonneuve,  and 
departed  for  Orleans  alone.  This  circumstance  led  to  a sus- 
picion ot  her  virtue,  and  at  the  hotel  where  the  stage 
stopped  she  was  only  miraculously  preserved  from  insult. 
With  the  most  heartfelt  gratitude,  the  courageous  Sister 
returned  thanks  to  God  for  this  special  protection,  and  set 
out  for  Nantes. 

On  her  way  there,  her  influence  was  so  great  among  the 
passengers  that  they  daily  recited  with  her  the  Office  of 
■ the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  said  the  Rosary.  She  even  pre- 
vailed on  the  rowers  to  proceed  during  the  night,  contrary 
to  their  custom,  that  the  little  crew  might  have  the  advan- 
tage of  complying  with  the  precept  of  the  Church,  by  as- 
sisting at  Mass  on  Sunday. 

Landing  at  Nantes,  she  immediately  inquired  for  the 
abode  of  Mr.  Le  Coq,  a merchant  of  that  city,  whose  dwell- 
ing was  assigned  by  De  Maisonneuve  as  the  rendezvous 
of  the  passengers  for  Canada.  This  merchant  was  known 
at  Nantes  by  a different  name — that  of  De  la  Bessoniere. 
The  Sister’s  inquiries  were  therefore  vain,  for  a length  of 
time ; at  last,  she  providentially  inquired  again — of  a gen- 
tleman whom  she  accidentally  met — if  he  knew  such  a per- 
son as  a Mr.  Le  Coq.  The  gentleman  happened  to  be  the 
very  individual  she  so  anxiously  sought.  De  Maisonneuve 
had  already  acquainted  him  by  letter  of  her  arrival  in 
Nantes.  She  was  therefore  most  cordially  received,  and 
lodged  in  his  own  residence  till  her  departure  for  Canada. 

In  the  interval  which  elapsed  she  chose  for  confessor  a 
religious  priest,  to  whom  she  confided  her  past  and  present 
intentions.  She  likewise  told  him  that  she  had  declined 
when  in  Paris  the  offer  of  admittance  into  a religious  com- 
munity for  which  she  formerly  felt  some  inclination.  The 
confessor,  who  belonged  to  this  Order,  unhesitatingly  de- 
cided that  she  should  accept  the  proffered  proposal ; and 
recommended  her  to  write  instantly  to  that  effect.  Again, 
her  docile  and  gentle  mind  was  cast  into  an  abyss  of  per- 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


573 


plexity,  respecting  the  will  of  her  Divine  Master.  In  this 
dilemma,  to  whom  could  she  have  recourse  but  to  God  who 
mercifully  invites  those  who  suffer  and  are  heavy  laden  to 
come  to  Him  for  refreshment?  In  the  most  bewildered  state, 
she  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  this  only  true  Comforter, 
in  the  chapel  of  the  Capuchin  Friars.  There  her  pure  and 
humble  heart  overflowed  with  feelings  of  faith,  and  hope, 
and  love.  There  also,  on  that  very  altar,  at  the  feet  of  her 
hidden  God,  she  was  relieved  from  all  fears  and  doubts.  In- 
stantly, He  whom  the  winds  and  seas  obey  stilled  the  agi- 
tated waters,  and  peace,  confidence,  and  Divine  light  assured 
her  that  she  was  destined  for  Canada. 

Notwithstanding  the  Divine  assurance,  however,  she 
thought  herself  obliged  to  comply  with  the  injunctions  of 
her  confessor.  She  accordingly  wrote  two  letters  to  Paris, 
to  which,  by  a particular  appointment  of  Providence,  no 
answer  was  returned. 

In  this  state  of  things.  Governor  De  Maisonneuve  arrived 
at  Nantes.  On  his  arrival,  an  anonymous  letter  was  sent  him 
to  prevail  on  Sister  Bourgeois  to  become  a Carmelite  nun. 
This  communication  was  disregarded,  and  served  rather  to 
induce  De  Maisonneuve  to  strain  every  nerve  to  strengthen 
the  intention  of  the  good  Sister  to  continue  what  she 
had  so  well  begun. 

In  the  meantime,  her  unassuming  manners  won  the  es- 
teem and  affection  of  the  family  of  Mr.  de  la  Bessoniere. 
to  a point  rarely  equaled.  Mr.  de  la  Bessoniere  declined 
receiving  any  compensation  for  board  and  lodging,  and 
begged  the  Sister  to  accept,  for  her  personal  comfort,  the 
iiandsome  present  of  a bed  and  bedding,  with  a quantity 
of  fresh  water  which  he  had  put  on  board  for  her  use, 
knowing  that  wine  had  long  been  deemed  a superfluous  lux- 
ury. Everything  was  now  prepared  for  the  separation  of 
this  Catholic  heroine  from  all  that  was  dear  to  her  noble 
and  affectionate  heart.  What  conflicting  emotions  and' 
hopes  and  fears  must  have  agitated  her  mind  when  on  the 
point  of  exiling  herself  from  the  cherished  associations  of 
her  childhood  and  youth;  and  of  changing  the  bright. 


674 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


sunny  skies  of  her  loved  France  for  the  snowy  wilds,  icy 
atmosphere,  and  unexplored  wastes  of  Canada  ? But  thiJ 
lofty  woman  rose  with  the  diflBiCulties  of  her  position.  ShJ 
counted  no  sacrihce.  Her  loss  was  her  gain. 


CHAPTER  III. 


CANADIAN  LIFE  TWO  CENTURIES  AGO. 

Sister  Bourgeois  arrives  in  Canada — A hoioling  wilder^ 
ness — Extreme  climate — The  St.  Lawrence — Lo!  the 
poor  Indian" — How  the  red  man  lived.,  moved.,  and  had 
his  being — Canadian  towns  of  the  seventeenth  century 
— Montreal  a dreary  forest — Mass  in  a tent — Sister 
Bourgeois  teaches  the  little  Indian  girls — MaJces  her- 
self all  to  all.,  that  she  might  gain  all  to  Christ — A new 
idea — The  voyage  to  France — Its  success — The  ship 
'■'‘St.  Andre" — Again  in  Ville-Marie. 

On  the  22d  of  September,  16o3,  after  a long  and  adven- 
turous voyage,  this  holy  daughter  of  France,  chosen  from 
among  thousands,  set  foot  in  Canada — that  promised  land 
which  she  so  ardently  desired  to  reach. 

Canada  was  discovered  in  1534  by  the  French,  who  gave 
it  the  name  of  New  France  ; but  it  could  scarcely  be  called 
an  established  colony  before  1008,  the  year  in  which  the 
great  Champlain  founded  Quebec. 

At  the  date  of  which  we  write  — 1053  — it  was,  in  the 
words  of  Ransonet,  “one  immense  forest,  interspersed 
by  rivers  and  lakes,  which  renders  the  climate  extremely 
cold,  notwithstanding  its  geographical  situation  in  the 
temperate  zone.  Unless  the  utmost  precaution  is  taken, 
a cheek  or  a hand  will  be  frozen  in  an  imperceptible  lapse 
of  time,  which  will  mortify  and  fall  off,  if  we  have  the  im- 
prudence to  present  either  to  the  fire,  instead  of  apply- 
ing snow.  This  excessive  cold  is  succeeded  by  such 

575 


676 


MOTHER  jl^QARET  BOURGEOIS. 


intense  heat,  that  the  grain  is  sown  and  reaped  in  the 
space  of  three  months.' 

“The  principal  river,”  continues  Ransonet,  “is  the  ma- 
jestic St.  Lawrence,  w'hich  will  bear  on  its  icy  bosom  the 
heaviest-laden  vehicle,  for  the  space  of  six  or  seven  long 
months.  This  immense  body  of  water  is  twenty-five  leagues 
wide  at  its  mouth,  and  contains  lakes  of  600  leagues  in  cir- 
cumference.’ It  is  navigable  for  ships  160  leagues  from  the 
ocean.  Its  waters  at  Niagara  form  a most  stupendous  cataract, 
falling  perpendicularly  with  an  incredible  shock  over  a 
precipice  of  200  feet. 

“The  natives  of  this  barbarous  country  are  Indians,  well- 
formed,  muscular,  and  beardless.  Their  complexion  would 
be  tolerably  fair,  did  they  not  destroy  it  by  friction  of  oil 
and  paint  of  many  colors.  At  all  seasons  of  the  year,  these 
children  of  the  forest  go  bareheaded.  In  winter  they  roll 
themselves  in  skins,  in  summer  the  men  suspend  some  loose 
covering  from  the  belt,  and  the  Indian  woman  is  half 
clothed  with  a kind  of  shirt,  that  descends  not  quite  so  low 
as  the  knee,  the  remainder  of  the  body  being  exposed.’  They 
live  partly  on  game,  partly  on  horse  or  dog’s  flesh  that  die 
of  disease  or  old  age.  This  is  always  eaten  without  bread. 
They  have,  in  the  neighborhood  of  French  settlements, 
small  plantations  of  Indian  corn,  with  which  they  make  a 
kind  of  porridge  called  sagamite. 

“The  Indians  have  no  fixed  habitations,  but  wander  in 
tribes  from  place  to  place,  according  as  necessity  or  fancy 
guides  them.  They  lodge  in  huts  or  tents  of  leaves  of 
bark,  stiched  together.  Nothing  is  jnore  cruel  or  more  fe- 


> The  above  is  even  yet  an  accurate  description  of  the  extreme  climate  of  the  Province  of  Que- 
bec, or  Lower  Canada;  but  it  by  no  means  applies  to  the  Province  of  Ontario,  or  Upper  Canada. 
The  climate  of  Toronto  is  as  temperate  as  that  of  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  We  believe  more  snow  falls 
in  Brooklyn  every  winter  than  in  the  capital  of  Ontario. 

’ He  refers  to  the  great  Lakes— Superior,  Huron,  Erie,  and  Ontario. 

s This,  doubtless,  refers  to  the  roving  Algonqnins  that  roamed  around  Quebec,  Montreal,  and 
the  lower  Provinces.  It  would  not  be  strictly  true  if  applied  to  the  Hnrons  of  Upper  Canada. 
The  Huron  squaws  generally  clothed  themselves  with  much’ modesty;  even  more  so,  writes  a 
Jesuit  Father,  than  “ the  most  pious  ladies  in  France.”  But  to  the  warriors  a similar  compli- 
ment could  not  be  paid.  In  summer  they  dispensed  with  every  article  of  their  rude  covering  but 
the  moccassins. — " History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States." 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


577 


rocious  in  war  than  these  barbarians  ; their  revenge  is  noc 
even  satisfied  by  death.  They  scalp,  burn,  suck  the  blood, 
open  the  bodies,  drag  out  the  entrails,  and  eat  the  heart  of 
their  victims  ; nor  are  they  even  then  satisfied.  Every  tor- 
ment that  imagination  can  suggest  is  exhausted.  And  the 
daughter  of  the  forest  is  Dot  less  cruel  than  the  sterner  sex; 
indeed,  it  is  said  that  they  even  surpass  the  men  in  refined 
cruelty. 

“The  age  of  loveliness  itself  is  thus  schooled  to  barbarity  ; 
for  while  the  savage  parent  is  thus  gratifying  his  brutal 
feelings,  the  children  dance  around  and  insult  the  unfortu- 
nate sufferer,  calling  him  by  the  appellation  of  woman,  if 
he  utters  a complaint  or  gives  a sign  of  sensibility  in  the 
midst  of  their  atrocities.  This  cruelty,  barbarous  as  it  may 
appear,  is  not  to  be  compared  to  the  desperate  courage 
evinced  by  the  vanquished  Indian.  He  is  seen  enduring 
the  dreadful  punishment  of  fire  and  sword,  quietly  singing, 
and  reproaching  the  executioners  that  they  want  ingenuity 
thus  stimulating  them  to  new  cruelties. 

“With  the  exception  of  a few  converted  by  the  mission- 
aries, the  savages  are  generally  idolaters.  The  principal 
object  of  their  fearful  adoration  is  a malevolent  spirit  which 
they  CdiM  manitou.  To  this  they  offer  sacrifice  of  propitia- 
tion. Their  manner  of  sacrificing  is  to  throw  tobacco  into 
the  river  or  sea,  a ceremony  they  never  omit  before  a voy- 
age is  undertaken. 

“The  French  have  built  three  principal  towns  in  Canada, 
Quebec,  Three  Rivers,  and  Ville-Marie.'  Quebec,  the  cap- 
ital, is  the  residence  of  a Bishop,  a Governor,  who  is  at  the 
same  time  Governor  of  New  France  and  of  the  Executive 
Council.  The  Rev.  Gentlemen  of  St.  Sulpice  are  Seigneurs 
of  the  entire  Island  of  Montreal ; they  have  propagated 
Catholicity  by  multiplying  the  number  of  laborers  in  the 
vineyard  of  the  Lord.  Indeed  the  revenue  of  their  whole 
Seigneurie  is  totally  devoted  in  the  cause  of  the  Gospel.”  * 


• yWe-Marie,  i.  the  town  of  Mary.  It  is  now  the  great  city  of  Montreal. 

> It  may  be  well  to  remember  that  the  foregoing  was  written  just  one  hundred  and  fifty  years 
ago.  when  Canada  was  a French  colony. 


578 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


Though  Sister  Bourgeois  landed  at  Quebec,  she  did  not 
remain  there.  The  town  that  bore  the  name  of  Mary,  her 
Protectress,  was  the  real  point  of  attraction  Accordingly 
she  proceeded  to  Montreal  with  Governor  de  Maisonneuve. 
This  Island*  was  then  nothing  more  than  a dreary,  desolate 
forest,  so  much  so  that  it  could  not  afford  even  a cottage 
in  which  to  offer  the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass.  A tent 
was  the  only  temple  of  the  living  God,  and  a tree  of  the 
proud  forest  the  only  steeple  ! 

Now  had  dawned  the  solemn  day  on  which  Sister  Bour- 
geois’ wishes  were  to  be  realized.  The  offspring  of  the  In- 
dian and  the  child  of  the  French  were  seated  to  receive 
gratuitously  that  instruction  which  tends  to  form  the  un- 
tutored savage  and  the  docile  French  heart;  yet,  both  re- 
ceived the  science  of  sciences,  on  which  all  human  knowl- 
edge is  based — the  science  of  salvation.  Who  could  de- 
scribe the  activity  of  Sister  Bourgeois’  zeal  in  this  arduous 
task  V With  what  delight  she  went  from  tent  to  tent,  to 
enlighten  the  young,  when  circumstances  prevent  the  half- 
clad  children  of  nature  from  thronging  around  her  ; nor  did 
she  limit  her  untiring  attentions  and  charity.  She  watched 
and  served  the  sick  with  maternal  care,  even  the  dead  re 
ceived  from  her  benevolent  hands  the  last  sad  services. 
She  washed  and  repaired  the  clothes  of  the  poor  soldier ; in 
a word,  she  is  an  eye  and  a hand  to  all — neither  the  want 
of  the  necessaries  of  life,  nor  the  insupportable  rigor  of  the 
Canadian  winter,  nor  the  almost  intolerable  heat  of  sum- 
mer, nor  the  fear  of  the  savages,  nor  the  wild  disposition  of 
the  Indian  children — nothing,  in  short,  seemed  capable  of 
damping  for  a moment  her  fervent  zeal  and  boundless 
charity. 

Such  is  an  abridgment  of  the  first  five  years  Sister  Bour- 
geois spent  in  Montreal ! 

What  a misfortune  that  we  have  not  been  gratified 
with  more  ample  details  of  her  actions,  and  that  they 


* Montreal  is  built  on  an  island  of  the  same  name 

»“  She  opened  her  school,”  writes  Parkman,  “ in  a stable,  which  answered  lo  ihe  stable  of 
Bethlehem,  lodging  with  her  pupils  in  the  loft.” — The  Old  Regime  in  Canada. 


if  OTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIH. 


579 


occurred  at  a time  when  the  use  of  the  pen  was  very 
limited ! 

Having  acquired  a thorough  knowledge  of  the  country  in 
five  years,  this  heroic  lady  judiciously  concluded  that  she 
alone  was  inadequate  to  accomplish  all  that  the  wants  of  the 
people  required.  The  idea  of  forming  a new  religious  com- 
munity, on  the  plan  of  that  formerly  attempted  by  Father 
Jandret  at  Troyes,  now  engrossed  all  her  attention.  To  find 
persons  for  that  purpose  in  Canada  was  as  yet  quite  impos- 
sible. She,  therefore,  decided  to  cross  the  perilous  deep, 
in  search  of  young  and  devoted  hearts  to  share  in  her  apos- 
tolical labors. 

She  did  not  seek  in  vain.  On  her  return  she  was  acccom- 
panied  by  four  excellent  young  ladies — the  Misses  Crolo, 
Raisin,  Hyoux,  and  Chatel.  Their  merit,  virtue,  and  bravery 
rendered  them  worthy  of  becoming  the  companions  of  the  he- 
roic Margaret  Bourgeois.  But  at  that  day  no  majestic  steam- 
ers cut  the  Atlantic  with  their  iron  keels;  and  a voyage  across 
the  stormy  ocean  was  generally  a most  perilous  and  soul-try- 
ing journey.  “On  the  2d  of  July,  1659,”  writes  Francis  Park- 
man,  “the  ship  Andre  lay  in  the  harbor  of  Rochelle, 
crowded  with  passengers  for  Canada.  She  had  served  two 
years  as  a hospital  for  marines,  and  was  infected  with  a 
contagious  fever.  Including  the  crew,  some  two  hundred 
persons  were  on  board,  more  than  half  of  whom  were  bound 
for  Montreal.  Most  of  these  were  sturdy  laborers,  arti- 
sans, peasants,  and  soldiers,  together  with  a troop  of  young 
women,  their  present  or  future  partners,  a portion  of  the 
company  set  down  on  the  old  record  as  ‘ sixty  virtuous  men 
and  thirty-two  pious  girls.’  There  were  two  priests  also, 
Yignal  and  Le  Maitre,  both  destined  to  a speedy  death  at 
the  hands  of  the  Iroquois.  But  the  most  conspicuous 
among  these  passengers  for  Montreal  were  two  groups  of 
women  in  the  habit  of  nuns,  under  the  direction  of  Margaret 
Bourgeois  and  Jeanne  Mance.  Margaret  Bourgeois,  whose 
kind,  womanly  face  bespoke  her  fitness  for  the  task,  was 
Foundress  of  the  school  for  female  children  at  Montreal; 
her  companion,  a tall,  austere  figure,  worn  with  suffering 


580 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


and  care,  was  directress  of  the  hospital.  Both  had  returned 
to  France  for  aid,  and  were  now  on  their  way  back,  each 
with  three  recruits,  three  being  the  naystic  number,  as  a 
type  of  the  Holy  Family,  to  whose  worship  they  were 
especially  devoted.” ' 

Mother  Bourgeois  and  her  gentle  companions  reached 
Montreal  safely.  It  was  just  exactly  a year  since  her 
departure.  Thus  was  her  promise  fulfilled.  Before  setting 
out  for  France,  she  had  promised  that  she  would  return  to 
Ville-Marie  on  the  very  day  of  the  month  and  hour  of  the 
day  on  which  she  departed,  a year  from  the  date  of  de 
parture. 


• “ The  Old  Regime  in  Canada.”  Parkman  mistakeB  the  number  of  ladies  accompanying  Mother 
Bourgeois.  It  was  four,  not  three.  See  her  SSo  by  Bansonet. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  FIRST  RELIGIOUS  ORDER  FOUNDED  IN  AMERICA. 

An  historic  stable — Margaret  Bourgeois  founds  the  Sisters 
of  the  Congregation  de  Notre  Dame — Her  second  trip 
to  France — Founds  a Chapel  in  honor  of  the  Most 
Blessed  Virgin — Labors  and  growth  of  her  community 
— Its  two  chief  objects — Dress  of  the  Sisters — Qualities 
which  a Sister  should  possess — They  receive  their  Rule 
from  Bishop  St.  Valier — The  convent  destroyed — Four 
years  of  mental  agony — Peace  of  soul. 

As  Governor  de  Maisonneuve  was  a devoted  Catholic,  and 
a “knight  without  fear  and  without  reproach,”  he  was  most 
anxious  to  show  his  deep  respect  for  the  religious  ladies 
who  honored  Ville-Marie  with  their  presence,  and  blessed 
it  by  their  labors.  But  good  intentions  cannot  do  all 
things.  The  Sisters  needed  a house,  and  the  Governor  had 
none  to  give  them.  Buildings  were  so  very  rare  that  he 
was  even  compelled  to  offer  them  a stable,  which  they 
gladly  accepted.'  And  here  in  this  stable  was  formed  by 
Margaret  Bourgeois  the  first  religious  order  ever  founded 
in  America — the  Congregation  de  Notre  Dame. The  young 
lady  novices  immediately  began  their  labors,  faithfully  fol- 
lowing in  the  footsteps  of  their  illustrious  guide  and  found- 
ress. It  is  said  that  the  spirit  of  holy  poverty,  which 
reigned -throughout  this  small  community,  led  the  gentle 
inmates  to  find  new  charms  in  their  most  humble  abode. 

But  this  wretched  residence  really  cramped  the  labors  of 
the  Sisters;  and,  indeed,  prevented  their  fulfilling  the  end 


’ It  ehonld  be  remembered  that  seven  years  after  this — that  is,  In  1667 — the  census  gives  to  Mon- 
treal only  766  souls;  Qnebec,  448. 

* Th’  Sisteis  of  the  Congregation  of  our  Lady. 


581 


682 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS 


of  their  vocation.  A change  was  necessary  A more  com- 
modious dwelling  soon  began  to  rise,  and  was  nearly  com- 
pleted, when  Mother  Bourgeois  again  braved  the  terrors  of 
the  Atlantic.  With  a soul  filled  with  confidence  in  God, 
she  landed  a second  time  in  the  country  of  her  fathers.  This 
she  did  for  the  two-fold  purpose  of  obtaining  letters  patent 
from  Louis  XIV.,  for  the  permanent  establishment  of  her 
Institute,  and  in  order  to  bring  over  more  ladies  to  assist 
her.  Success  smiled  on  her  efforts.  The  documents  which 
she  so  justly  demanded  were  signed  and  put  into  her  hands 
without  almost  any  solicitation  on  her  part.  She  had  also 
the  happiness  of  receiving  several  young  ladies  into  her 
community. 

These  fortunate  results  she  attributed  to  the  intercession 
of  the  Most  Blessed  Virgin,  whose  protection  the  heroic 
lady  endeavored  to  insure  by  erecting  a chapel  in  her 
honor  at  Montreal.  The  particulars  of  its  erection  are  thus 
given  by  the  foundress  herself : 

“It  must  be  acknowledged,”  she  writes,  “that  God  in 
His  mercy  has  watched  over  our  little  community  in  a most 
admirable  manner.  On  my  arrival  in  this  desolate  country. 
I was  not  in  possession  of  a douhlon,'  and  notwithstanding, 
I undertook  to  raise  a chapel  in  honor  of  the  ever  Blessed 
Virgin  Mother  of  God.  To  succeed  I stimulated  the  inhab- 
itants to  collect  the  stone  necessary  for  the  undertaking. 
Their  labor  I endeavored  to  repay  by  my  needle.  Mr.  de 
Maisonneuve  had  the  timber  prepared,  and  others  supplied 
the  lime,  sand,  and  boards.  In  fine,  I found  sufficient  ma^ 
terials  to  complete  the  building.  Just  as  the  foundations 

were  laid,  the  Abbe  de arrived  at  Quebec  from  France; 

naving  learned  my  proceeding,  he  immediately  stopped  its 
execution.  In  the  meantime  I returned  to  France,  and  on 
arriving  in  Canada  I had  the  misfortune  to  find  that  the 
materials  which  I had  so  much  trouble  in  collecting  were 
completely  scattered.  What  was  stiU  more  embarrassing,  I 
was  compelled,  in  consequence  of  the  number  of  nuns  I 


> About  $15. 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


583 


brought  out  from  France,  to  erect  a house  a hundred  feet 
in  length.  This,  of  course,  deferred  the  erection  of  the 
chapel.  Before  I completed  the  interior  of  our  house,  I 
saw  myself  obliged  again  to  visit  the  old  world  a second 
time.  On  my  return  the  whole  community  felt  solicitous 
for  the  completion  of  the  chapel,  which  merely  consisted  of 
the  timber-work  which  had  been  put  up  before  my  last 
voyage.  This  long-wished-for  building  was  finally  completed 
in  the  year  1677,  and  a statue  of  the  Most  Blessed  Vir- 
gin, by  means  of  which  a miracle  had  been  operated  in  fa- 
vor of  Mr.  de  Fancomp,  was  solemnly  placed  therein.” 

Sister  Bourgeois’  intention  in  erecting  this  house  of 
prayer  was  to  impress  on  the  Canadian  mind  the  heavenly 
beauty  and  grandeur  of  devotion  to  the  Mother  of  G-od. 
The  incessant  blessings  which  were  showered  upon  the  in- 
fant establishment  were,  no  doubt,  owing  to  the  powerful 
protection  of  Mary. 

The  Bishop  of  Quebec  gave  full  liberty  to  the  Sisters  to 
extend  their  schools  throughout  the  province.  They  la- 
bored with  that  unremitting  zeal  which  is  ever  rewarded  by 
a ten-fold  success.  And  so  great  was  the  number  who 
begged  admittance  into  the  community  of  the  Congrega- 
tion, that  in  the  space  of  ten  years  the  Foundress  had  the 
happiness  of  receiving  forty-seven  members,  to  Avhom  she 
promised  neither  wealth  nor  earthly  comfort.  The  only 
attraction  was  the  simplicity  and  poverty  of  the  Gospel. 

Since  we  have  now  come  to  that  period  at  which  this  es- 
tablishment attained  its  formation,  we  shall  dwell  with  the 
more  pleasure  on  the  admirable  inspirations  by  which  the 
Holy  Spirit  directed  Mother  Bourgeois.  The  two  principal 
ends  she  proposed  to  her  children  were,  (1.)  their  own 
sanctification,  (2.)  that  of  their  neighbor.  Both  these  ends 
she  accomplished  in  prescribing  the  three  vows  of  poverty, 
chastity,  and  obedience ; recommending,  at  the  same  time, 
frequent  prayer,  holy  meditation,  serious  examination, 
spiritual  retirement. 

Mother  Bourgeois  proposing  the  Most  Blessed  Virgin  as 
the  model  of  her  Sisterhood,  particularly  wished  that  the 


684 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


nuns  should  be  totally  devoted  to  female  instruction,  and 
consequently  gave  them  the  title  of  “Soeurs  Seculieres  de 
la  Congregation  de  N.  D.,”  ' because,  not  making  the  solemn 
vows,  they  are  not  cloistered  religious.  However,  they 
adopt  the  title  of  “The  Congregation  of  our  Lady,”  consid- 
ering the  Queen  of  Apostles  as  their  head,  their  model,  and 
their  special  patron. 

Instruction,  in  which  the  Sisters  excel,  was  not  merely 
confined  to  the  cit}^  but  extended  to  the  more  distant 
Indian  child,  even  at . the  very  risk  of  life.  Virtue  they 
particularly  inculcated,  insinuating  at  the  same  time  the 
practice  of  it,  to  which  was  added  the  training  of  the  youth- 
ful mind  to  the  love  and  pursuit  of  those  arts  and  sciences 
the  knowledge  of  which  may  be  turned  to  a useful  account 
at  a later  period. 

The  dress  of  the  Sisters  was  extremely  plain,  consisting 
of  a black  habit,  partly  open  in  front,  the  folds  formed  by 
a belt.  The  neckerchief  and  head-dress  was  of  linen,  to 
which  was  added  a veil  and  a small  silver  cross  worn  on  the 
bosom. 

To  finish  the  description  of  this  excellent  religious  insti- 
tute, we  shall  say  one  word  more  on  the  qualities  required 
in  order  to  be  numbered  among  the  happy  children  of  the 
heroic  Margaret  Bourgeois.  These  qualities  may  be  gath- 
ered from  her  address  to  the  Most  Blessed  Virgin:  “My 
good  and  tender  Mother,”  said  she,  “I  request  neither 
wealth  nor  honors,  nor  the  pleasures  afforded  by  worldly 
friends,  for  this  community.  I beseech  thee  to  obtain  for 
me,  that  God  may  be  faithfully  served  therein.  Permit  not 
that  women  who  are  of  a proud,  imperious,  or  presumptuous 
disposition  may  ever  find  admittance,  nor  those  whose 
hearts  are  engaged  in  worldly  pleasures,  whose  lan- 
guage is  either  slanderous  or  sarcastic,  and  who  do  not 
endeavor  to  study  and  reduce  to  practice  that  humility 
which  thy  adorable  Son  has  taught,  which  He  has  sealed 
with  His  precious  blood,  and  which  thou,  O Mother  of  God, 


Secnlar  Sisters  of  the  Congregation  of  our  Lady. 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


585 


hast  practised  so  faithfully!”  And  she  added:  “Let  all 
who  seek  to  be  admitted  into  the  Congregation  be  firmly 
resolved  to  abandon  worldly  principles,  bad  habits,  and  evil 
inclinations,  to  separate  themselves  from  parents,  friends, 
in  a word,  from  all  that  might  uselessly  engage  their 
attention,  and  when  admitted  they  should  feel  apprehensive, 
lest  they  might  prove  unfaithful  to  God,  to  whom  they 
have  consecrated  themselves.  Perfect  submission,  poverty, 
and  interior  recollection  should  be  the  characteristics  of 
every  member  of  this  institution.” 

It  was  thus,  above  all  things,  she  sought  in  her  novices 
that  religious  perfection  of  which  she  herself  was  a shin- 
ing example.  Talents  and  intellect,  though  of  secondary 
consideration,  were  also  required  to  fulfill  the  duty  of  a 
Sister  of  the  Congregation.  But  neither  wealth  nor  for- 
tune ever  entered  into  her  calculations.  What  she  seemed 
most  to  fear  was,  that  any  endowed  with  the  necessary 
qualifications  should  be  refused  admittance  on  account  of 
pecuniary  circumstances. 

She  used  to  say,  with  a disinterested  enthusiasm:  “I 
would  willingly  embrace  and  admit  a novice  with  a true  vo- 
cation, even  if  her  pecuniary  circumstances  were  at  the 
very  lowest  ebb.”  It  was  from  this  principle  that  she  en- 
treated the  Bishop  of  Quebec  not  to  incorporate  her  con- 
gregation with  any  other  religious  or  cloistered  community, 
adducing  as  reason,  that  a fortune  being  necessary  in  those 
asylums,  it  would  be  an  impediment  to  persons  not  in  easy 
circumstances  to  consecrate  themselves  to  God. 

Up  to  this  time  the  Congregation  de  Notre  Dame  had  no 
fixed  rule.  The  members  observed  what  Mother  Bourgeois 
prescribed  by  way  of  trial.  She  conversed  on  the  neces- 
sity of  a rule  with  the  Bishop  of  Quebec.  To  supply  this 
deficiency  she  came  to  the  determination  of  crossing  for  the 
third  time  to  France,  there  to  seek  and  bring  back  the  es- 
sence of  that  admirable  Rule  given  to  the  Sisters  at  a later 
period  by  Bishop  St.  Valier,  of  Quebec. 

Shortly  after  her  arrival  in  Montreal,  a fire  consumed  her  en- 
tire convent  in  the  dead  of  night.  So  sudden  and  so  dread- 


586 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


ful  was  this  conflagration  that  two  of  the  nuns  perished  in 
the  flames.  The  death  of  these  two  inestimable  members 
made  a most  melancholy  impression  on  the  sensitive  heart 
of  the  holy  Foundress.  The  loss  of  the  building,  indeed, 
compared  to  this  bereavement,  seemed  of  no  consideration. 
But  without  delay,  she  laid  the  foundation  of  another  con- 
vent, much  larger  and  more  convenient  than  the  former, 
and  that,  too,  with  no  more  assistance  than  the  scanty 
means  furnished  by  the  strict  economy  of  the  Sisterhood. 

God,  who  delights  in  increasing  the  merits  of  His  beloved 
children,  sometimes  permits  that  trials  and  sufferings  should 
put  their  patience  to  the  test.  The  hour  has  now  struck, 
which  had  been  marked  by  the  Divine  Will,  in  which  our 
heroine’s  susceptible  heart  was  also  to  be  tried  and  found 
worthy.  Interior  conflicts  of  the  most  distressing  nature 
caused  her  to  feel  as  if  her  God  had  entirely  rejected  her. 
The  slightest  fault  was  magnifled.  She  reproached  herself, 
that  selflsh  egotism  was  the  motive  of  her  every  action. 
Such  frightful  illusions  cast  her  sad  soul  into  an  abyss  of 
affliction;  not  so  much  from  the  apprehension  of  hell,  and 
all  its  dire  consequences,  as  the  separation  from  that  God 
she  so  tenderly  and  beautifully  loved.  Prayer,  self-denial, 
perfect  submission,  self-contempt,  aU  were  ineffectually  em- 
ployed for  relief.  The  chalice  was  yet  fraught  with  bitter 
ness,  and  it  must  be  exhausted  to  a drop.  This  thorny  and 
overclouded  path  she  trod  for  the  space  of  four  years,  at 
the  expiration  of  which  Almighty  God  exhibited  His  mercy 
and  justice  and  love  by  restoring  peace  to  her  troubled  but 
dauntless  soul — a peace  which  she  had  so  long  sought  in 
vain. 

These  painful  temptations  having  vanished.  Mother  Bour- 
geois resigned  the  superiority,  and  even  declined  taking 
part  in  the  government  or  administration  of  the  convent 
for  the  last  seven  years  of  her  life.  This  time  she  devoted 
exclusively  to  the  practice  of  interior  virtues  known  only 
to  Heaven. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  SUNSET  OF  A BEAUTIFUL  LIFE. 

The  virtues  of  Mother  Bourgeois — Herr  Charity — Gives 
away  her  bed — Institutes  missions  for  women — Schools 
for  country  children — Walks  180  miles  in  winter — Her 
humility — Poverty  of  spirit — Miraculous  favors — The 
last  sublime  act  of  life — Her  death — Her  character. 

The  virtues  of  Mother  Bourgeois  were  of  the  most  heroic 
cast.  In  her  character  there  was  a harmony,  a rounded 
beauty  that  excites  our  highest  admiration.  Her  tender 
affection  for  her  fellow-creatures  was  second  only  to  her 
boundless  love  of  God.  On  one  occasion  she  purchased  a 
lot  of  ground  at  Quebec  for  the  purpose  of  opening  a school 
in  that  city ; but  certain  interested  individuals  contested 
the  purchase.  Mother  Bourgeois,  rather  than  contend,  re- 
signed her  legal  rights,  stating  that  she  not  only  loved  her 
neighbor,  but  even  wished  to  preserve  her  neighbor  in  the 
love  which  he  owed  to  her.  Amply  was  she  repaid  for 
this  Christian  disinterestedness.  As  she  was  leaving  the 
Church,  in  which  she  had  confided  and  offered  to  Almighty 
God  the  sacrifice  of  her  hopes  and  disappointments,  an  un- 
known person  approached,  and  handed  her  a sum  equal  to 
that  required  of  her  by  those  unjust  and  exacting  men ! 

Her  disposal  of  the  bed  presented  to  her  before  her  de- 
parture from  France  by  Mr.  de  la  Bessoniere,  is  quite 
characteristic.  The  first  winter  she  passed  in  Canada  was 
perhaps  the  most  rigorous.  During  that  fearfully  cold  sea- 
son, a poor  soldier  came  to  complain  to  the  common  mother 
of  all  the  distressed  then  in  Montreal,  that  he  was  perishing 
for  want  of  a mattress  whereon  to  repose  his  weary  limbs. 
Dear  Margaret  Bourgeois’  tender  heart  was  touched ; but 

587 


/ 


588  MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. ' 

what  relief  could  she  afford  ? She  gave  him  her  own  bed, 
the  only  one  she  had.  Shortly  after,  a companion  of  the 
unfortunate  soldier,  having  learned  the  success  of  his  fel- 
low-in-arms, came  to  make  a new  draft  on  the  good  Sister's 
charity.  She  gave  him  the  blankets.  No  application,  it 
appears,  was  made  for  the  pillow.  Thus  she  reduced  her- 
self to  the  extremity  of  passing  nearly  the  whole  of  a rigor- 
ous Canadian  winter  on  the  bare  ground;  and  her  sufferings 
must  have  been  beyond  description. 

Knowing  well  the  immense  power  that  woman  wields  in 
this  world.  Mother  Bourgeois  considered  it  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  promote  solid  piety  among  her  sex.  For 
married  and  unmarried  females  she  instituted  assemblies,  to 
which  sermons  and  exhortations  were  addressed,  according 
to  their  respective  stations.  For  a time  these  meetings 
seemed  to  produce  slight  results  ; and  it  was  thought  advis- 
able to  discontinue  them.  But  she  would  not  hear  of  it. 

‘ ‘ Should  no  greater  good,  ’ ’ she  remarked,  ‘ ‘ be  derived  from 
them  than  that  one  sin  should  thereby  be  prevented,  she 
would  deem  herself  amply  rewarded  for  the  trouble  they 
gave.”  Even  just  before  her  death,  this  saintly  woman  en- 
joined on  her  Sisterhood  never  to  consent  that  those  assem- 
blies should  be  abolished.  Her  intentions  were  punctually 
fulfilled.  To  this  day  they  are  the  object  of  the  zeal  of  the 
Sisters  of  the  Congregation.  She  also  entreated  her  relig- 
ious to  give  spiritual  retreats  for  the  poor  scholars,  and  im- 
posed, as  an  imperative  obligation,  that  the  members  of  her 
Community  should  be  sent  to  form  schools  in  different  parts 
of  Canada  for  the  instruction  of  the  country  children. 

In  1686,  Mother  Bourgeois  learned  that  the  Bishop  of 
Quebec  wished  to  confer  with  her  on  the  subject  of  a 
house,  which  he  intended  to  open  in  his  episcopal  city  for 
the  instruction  of  poor  children.  Immediately  she  set  out 
for  Quebec.  The  distance  was  about  one  hundred  and 
eighty  miles,  and  the  journey  was  made  on  foot,  in  the 
midst  of  snow  and  ice.  But  her  painful  voyage  was  the 
least  part  of  the  w^ork.  She  spent  four  days  of  Holy  Week 
in  the  laborious  undertaking  of  preparing  and  furnishing 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


589 


the  new  house,  and  passed  whole  nights  prostrate  before 
the  Blessed  Sacrament,  praying  for  the  success  of  her  mis- 
sion. To  her  all  labor  was  luxury,  and  suffering  a blessing 
in  disguise,  provided  she  gained  souls  to  God. 

In  her  humility  there  was  also  something  heroic  and 
beautiful.  She  often  said  she  believed  she  had  not  the 
least  intellect,  and  desired  to  be  forgotten  and  despised. 
Yet  her  lofty  and  sensitive  nature  felt  humiliations  keenly. 

‘I  request  humiliations,  ” she  would  say,  “ and  when  the  Al- 
mighty permits  that  I am  so  favored,  I keenly  feel  them.  I 
tear  I may  yet  fall  into  some  serious  faults.”  In  giving 
the  habit  to  her  novices,  she  was  wont  to  repeat:  “My 
dear  Sister,  be  always  humble  and  little  in  your  own  eyes.” 

The  love  of  poverty  was  another  virtue  that  adorned  the 
character  of  this  noble  woman.  She  was  most  careful 
that  the  Sisters  should  be  trained  to  the  practice  of  this 
virtue.  “The  Blessed  Virgin,”  she  writes,  “whose  chil- 
dren we  are,  embraced  the  most  rigorous  poverty.  Our 
Lord  chose  a stable  for  his  palace,  a manger  for  a cradle,  a 
little  straw  for  a bed  of  state.  In  after  years.  He  had  not 
whereon  to  repose  His  adorable  head;  and  in  the  painful 
agony  of  death,  a cross  was  His  dying  'pillow.  Blessed 
are  the  poor  in  spirit,  says  our  Lord  in  one  of  his  first  in- 
structions. It  will  avail  naught  to  be  exteriorly  poor. 
The  heart  must  be  detached  from  the  little  possessed,  and 
even  from  the  desire  of  acquiring,  and  be  satisfied  with 
what  the  community  affords,  even  in  sickness,  unless  ne- 
cessity requires  the  contrary.  In  the  missions,”  she  con- 
tinues, “the  Sisters  should  live  in  the  same  state  of  pov- 
erty, seeking  not  their  own  comfort,  but  the  good  and 
happiness  of  their  neighbor.” 

How  great  soever  was  the  poverty  she  so  wisely  pre- 
scribed to  her  Sisters,  the  apprehension  of  their  suffering 
from  want  never  gave  her  the  least  concern,  being  persuaded 
that  “.fTewho  provides  for  the  birds  of  the  air”  will  not  fail 
to  provide  for  them ! Her  unlimited  confidence  in  Divine 
Providence  was  frequently  rewarded  by  extraordinary  suc- 
cor in  the  moment  of  need.  During  a famine,  the  Sister 


690 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


charged  with  the  bakery  saw  her  portion  of  flour  reduced  to 
such  a point  that  she  deemed  it  useless  to  bake  for  the 
Community.  Mother  Bourgeois,  however,  told  her  not  to 
defer.  The  obedient  Sister  immediately  complied,  and 
found  the  flour  multiplying  in  her  hands,  and  that  to  such 
a degree  that  she  had  as  many  loaves  as  five  times  the 
quantity  of  flour  could  have  produced  ! 

On  another  occasion  the  Community  was  so  reduced,  that 
not  even  a mouthful  of  bread  could  be  afforded  for  supper. 
The  humble  Mother  Bourgeois,  whose  desire  was  to  do  good 
in  secret,  sent  for  the  same  nun  who  had  charge  of  the 
bakery,  and  told  her  to  go  to  the  chapel  and  beg  the 
Most  Blessed  Virgin  to  supply  the  deficiency.  No  sooner 
was  the  prayer  offered  than  the  bread  desired  was  sent  to 
the  Convent.  This  dear  and  holy  Mother  used  to  go  where 
* the  wheat  was  deposited,  and  there  recite  the  Lord’s  prayer ; 
and  He  who  is  ever  attentive  to  the  supplications  of  His 
beloved  children  caused  the  quantity  of  the  little  store  visi- 
bly to  increase.  Some  of  the  Sisters  were  so  struck  with 
this  extraordinary  augmentation  that  they  began  to  meas- 
ure the  wheat,  but  Mother  Bourgeois,  being  informed  of  it, 
put  a stop  to  their  laudable  curiosity,  adding,  “that  it 
would  be  the  cause  of  a privation,  a cessation  of  the  benefits 
of  our  Heavenly  Father.” 

Pecuniary  circumstances  not  permitting  the  Sister  Treas- 
urer, in  1690,  to  purchase  even  a bushel  of  wheat,  so  great 
was  the  expense  compared  with  the  means  of  the  Commu- 
nity, nevertheless,  sufficient  flour  was  found  for  the  whole 
Community  for  the  space  of  four  months.  This  the  Treas- 
urer very  judiciously  attributed  to  the  prayers  of  Mother 
Bourgeois,  who  never  failed  to  visit  the  little  wheat  that 
remained,  from  time  to  time,  offering  up  her  fervent  prayers 
for  its  increase.  A person  highly  creditable  who  lived  in 
the  Convent  also  relates  that  wine  had  become  so  scarce 
that  it  could  not  be  had  in  Montreal.  The  Sisters  of  the 
Congregation  supplied  the  sick  of  the  city,  as  well  as  the 
quantity  necessary  for  the  Masses  said  at  the  parish 
church.  What  is  here  particularly  remarkable  is,  when 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


591 


the  ships  arrived  from  France  with  wine,  the  barrel  which 
had  so  freely  supplied  the  liquor  refused  to  flow. 

The  same  person  asserts  that  the  Sisters  were  once  on 
the  point  of  entering  the  dining-room  for  dinner,  when 
Mother  Bourgeois  was  told  it  was  useless  to  assemble  her 
daughters  for  the  frugal  repast ; nevertheless,  she  had  the 
bell  rung  for  the  examination  of  conscience,  and  proceeded 
as  customary  to  the  refectory ; when  lo ! a person  entered 
with  all  that  is  required  for  dinner.  It  is  thus  our  Heavenly 
Father  realizes  the  word  of  His  Divine  Son:  “Seek  first 
the  Kingdom  of  God  and  His  justice,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you.” 

But  far  from  presuming  on  the  extraordinary  assistance 
of  Providence,  Mother  Bourgeois  rarely  requested  to  be 
miraculously  favored.  Such  was  the  austerity  of  her  life, 
that  indeed  very,  very  little  was  required  for  her  subsis- 
tence; and  even  that  little  was  seasoned  with  mixtures  in- 
geniously introduced  to  render  it  unpalatable.  One  meal, 
with  a little  soup  in  the  evening,  was  her  daily  diet.  Her 
positions,  either  sitting  or  standing,  she  rendered  painful, 
through  a spirit  of  mortification. 

So  completely  had  she  destroyed  the  sense  of  taste  by 
an  uninterrupted  application  to  render  food  disagreeable, 
that  she  could  partake  of  the  best  and  the  worst,  without 
either  pleasure  or  disgust.  Her  bed  was  of  straw  and  her 
pillows  of  wood.  In  her  frequent  voyages,  the  cables  or 
ropes  were  the  bed  on  which  she  reposed,  and  this  painful 
repose  was  short  and  regularly  interrupted  two  hours  every 
night  to  offer  her  pure  and  holy  meditations  to  God.  The 
sev’erity  of  the  most  rigorous  season  she  never  alleviated  by 
approaching  a fire.  And  to  all  this  could  be  added  differ- 
ent kinds  of  austerities  not  easily  described. 

The  last  act  of  Mother  Bourgeois  was  indeed  a fitting 
termination  to  the  heroic  and  beautiful  life  which  now 
drew  to  its  close.  On  the  last  night  of  the  year  1699,  Sis- 
ter St.  Angel  fell  dangerously  ill.  A sudden  alarm  was 
spread  through  the  convent.  But,  holy  and  gentle  Sisters, 
despair  not  of  the  life  of  your  dear  companion ! She 


592 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


whose  life  was  one  continued  act  of  charity  shall  shortly 
end  it  by  a supreme  act  of  that  sublime  virtue.  No  sooner 
, was  the  venerable  Foundress  informed  of  the  critical  con 
dition  of  Sister  St.  Aogel,  than  she  exclaimed,  with  all  the 
ardor  of  her  pious  and  lofty  soul : “O  My  God ! why  wilt 
thou  not  accept  the  sacrifice  of  my  life,  rather  than  de- 
prive the  Community  of  that  dear  and  excellent  child  ?” 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered  when  the  dangerous 
symptoms  of  the  sick  Sister  disappeared ; and  Mother 
Bourgeois  was  seized  with  a mortal  disease  which  she  bore 
for  the  space  of  twelve  days  with  that  grand  spirit  of  self- 
denial,  resignation,  and  blessed  joy  which  ever  characterized 
her  in  her  sufferings.  The  Sacraments  of  the  Church  con- 
soled her  last  moments.  She  breathed  her  pure  soul  into 
the  hands  of  God,  and  calmly  departed  this  life,  cheered  by 
the  bright  hope  of  those  who  having  instructed  many  unto 
justice  shall  shine  as  the  stars  of  heaven  forever  and  forever. 
And  thus  passed  away  amid  the  scene  of  her  toils  and  suf- 
ferings the  famous  and  saintly  Foundress  of  the  Congrega- 
tion de  Notre  Dame,  in  the  eightieth  year  of  her  age,  on 
the  12th  of  January,  1700.* 

“ ’Tis  pleasant  in  the  gay  greenwood — so  all  the  poets  sing — 

To  breathe  the  very  breath  of  flowers,  and  hear  the  sweet  birds  sin^^; 

’Tis  pleasant  to  shut  out  the  world — behind  their  curtain  green, 

And  live  and  laugh,  or  muse  and  pray,  forgotten  and  unseen; 

But  men  or  angels  seldom  saw  a sight  to  Heaven  more  dear. 

Than  Sister  Margaret  and  her  flock,  upon  our  hillside  here.’ 

“From  morn  till  eve,  a hum  arose,  above  the  maple  trees^ 

A hum  of  harmony  and  praise  from  Sister  Margaret’s  bees; 

1 “ In  Marguerite  Bourgeois,”  writes  Parkman,  “ was  realized  that  fair  ideal  of  Christian  wom- 
anhood, a flower  of  earth,  expanding  in  the  rays  of  Heaven,  which  soothed  with  gentle  influ- 
ence the  wilderness  of  a barbarous  age.” 

The  worthy  spiritual  daughters  of  the  venerable  Mother  Bourgeois,  the  Sisters  of  the  Congre- 
gation de  Notre  Dame,  number  nearly  seven  hundred.  Their  pupils  may  be  set  down  as  over 
16,000.  These  religious  Ladies  constitute  the  great  female  Educational  Order  of  Canada — and 
their  influence  has  been  widely  felt  even  in  the  United  States,  where  they  conduct  several  estab- 
lishments. Besides,  many  American  young  ladies  attend  their  boarding-schools,  especially  th« 
famous  Villa  Maria,  at  Montreal,  which  is  the  principal  Academy  of,the  Congregation. — “Historf 
of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States''  p.  424. 

Since  the  foregoing  went  to  press.  Mother  Bourgeois  was  declared  Veneraile. 

• Mount  Royal,  at  Montreal. 


MOTHER  MARGARET  BOURGEOIS. 


593 


Egyptian  hue  and  speech  uncouth  grew  fair  and  sweet,  when  won 
To  sing  the  song  of  Mary,  and  to  serve  her  Saviour  Son  ! 

The  courier  halted  on  his  path,  the  sentry  on  his  round, 

And  barehcad  blessed  the  holy  nun  who  made  it  holy  ground. 

" There  came  a day  of  tempest,  where  all  was  peace  before — 

The  Huron  war  cry  rang  dismay  on  Hochelaga’s  shore — 

Then  in  that  day  all  men  confessed,  with  all  man’s  humbled  pride. 
How  brave  a heart,  in  God’s  good  time,  a convent  serge  may  hide. 
The  savage  triumph’d  o’er  the  Saint — a tiger  in  the  fold — 

But  the  mountain  mission  stands  to-day  ! the  Huron’s  tale  is  told  ! 
********* 

*•  Dear  Mother  of  our  mountain  home  ! loved  foundress  of  our  school— 
Pray  for  thy  children  that  they  keep  thy  every  sacred  rule. 

Beseech  thy  glorious  Patron — Our  Lady  full  of  grace — 

To  guide  and  guard  thy  Sisterhood — and  her  who  fills  thy  place. 

Thy  other  self — to  whom  we  know  all  glad  obedience  given 
As  rendered  to  thyself,  will  be  repaid  ten-fold  in  Heaven  ! 

“For  thee,  my  country  ! many  are  the  gifts  God  gives  to  thee. 

And  glorious  is  thine  aspect,  from  sunset  to  the  sea. 

And  many  a cross  is  in  thy  midst,  and  many  an  altar  fair. 

And  many  a place  where  men  may  lay  the  burden  that  they  bear. 

Ah  ! may  it  be  thy  crowning  gift,  the  last  as  ’twas  the  first. 

To  see  thy  children  at  the  knee  of  Margaret  Bourgeois  nursed  1 ” ‘ 


* Written  by  the  Hon.  T.  D.  HcGee,  at  Montreal,  in  October,  1865. 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM, 

THE  LAST  COMMAXDER-rN-CHIEF  OF  THE  FRENCH  FORCES  IN  CANADA.* 


CHAPTER  1. 

A FRENCH  PHILOSOPHER  ON  FRANCE  IN  AMERICA. 

The  family^  youths  education,  and  early  career  of  Mont- 
calm— The  dreadful  charge  at  the  pass  of  Exilles — A 
glance  at  the  Map— State  of  affairs  in  Canada  at  the 
time  of  Montcalm' s arrival. 

The  French  philosopher  and  poet  Chateaubriand,  at  the 
close  of  the  eloquent  narrative  of  his  “Travels  in  North 
America,”  gives  expression  to  the  painful  feelings  that  clung 
to  him,  when  forced  to  dwell  on  the  names  of  Canada  and 
Louisiana,  and  when  the  old  maps  displayed  to  him  the  ex- 
tent of  the  ancient  French  dominion  in  America,  he  mused 
sorrowfully  on  the  evil  doom  by  which  France  lost  a trans- 
Atlantic  empire,  which  might  now  be  to  her  a source  of  in- 
exhaustible prosperity. 

He  truly  says : “ From  Acadia  and  Canada  to  Louisiana, 

from  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Lawrence  to  that  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, the  territories  of  New  France  surrounded  what  orig- 
inally formed  the  confederation  of  the  thirteen  United 
States.  The  other  States,  the  District  of  Columbia,  and 
Michigan,  Northwest  Missouri,  Oregon,  and  the  Arkansas 
territories,  belonged,  or  would  have  belonged  to  us,  as 


* Chief  anthoritieg  used  : Tin  Pere  Jeguite,  “ De  Montcalm  en  Canada,  on  leg  Dernieres  ann^eg 
de  la  Colonie  Franfaise  ; ” De  Fontpertiug,  “ Leg  Fran^aig  en  Amerique  ; ” “ Bentley’g  Migcei 
lany  ; ” Abbe  Ferland,  “ Conrg  d’Higtoire  dn  Canada  ; ” Warburton,  “ The  Conquest  of  Can- 
ada ; ” Bancroft,  “ Higtory  of  the  United  Statcg  ; ” De  Bonnechose,  “ Montcalm  et  le  Canada 
Fraucaig.” 

595 


696 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  HE  MONTCALM. 


they  now  belong  to  the  United  States,  by  the  cession  of  the 
English  and  Spaniards,  our  first  heirs  in  Canada  and  in 
Louisiana.  More  than  two-thirds  of  North  America  would 
acknowledge  the  sovereignty  of  France. 

“We  once  possessed  here  vast  countries,  which  might 
have  offered  a home  to  the  excess  of  our  population,  an  im- 
portant market  to  our  commerce,  a nursery  to  our  navy. 
Now,  we  are  forced  to  confine  in  our  prisons  culprits  con- 
demned by  the  tribunals,  for  want  of  a spot  of  ground 
whereon  to  place  these  wretched  creatures.  We  are  ex- 
cluded from  the  New  World,  where  the  human  race  is  recom- 
mencing The  English  and  Spanish  languages  serve  to  ex- 
press the  thoughts  of  many  millions  of  men  in  Africa,  in 
Asia,  in  the  South  Sea  Islands,  on  the  continent  of  the 
two  Americas  ; and  we,  disinherited  of  the  conquests  of 
our  courage  and  our  genius,  hear  the  language  of  Racine, 
of  Colbert,  and  of  Louis  XYI.,  spoken  merely  in  a 
few  hamlets  of  Louisiana  and  Canada,  under  a foreign 
sway.  There  it  remains,  as  though  but  for  an  evidence  of 
the  reverses  of  our  fortune  and  the  errors  of  our  policy. 
Thus,  then,  has  France  disappeared  from  North  America, 
like  those  Indian  tribes,  with  which  she  sympathized,  and 
some  of  the  wrecks  of  which  I have  beheld.” 

The  great  Frenchman  of  the  nineteenth  century,  who  thus 
mourned  over  the  glorious  dominions  in  the  Western 
World  which  might  have  been  his  country’s,  could  at 
least  have  consoled  himself  by  the  reflection,  that  it  was  not 
through  any  want  of  individual  heroes  among  her  sons, 
that  France  lost  those  fair  lands,  and  was  deprived  of  so 
bright  a future.  Were  we  to  mete  out  our  admiration  of  • 
the  various  European  settlers  in  America  by  individual 
specimens  of  ability,  energy,  virtue,  and  heroism,  there  is  no 
nation  that  would  have  a higher  claim  to  our  praise,  than 
that  which  produced  Champlain,  Jogues,  De  Brebeuf,  Mar- 
quette, La  Salle,  and  finally,  “the  wise  and  chivalrous” 
Montcalm,  the  last  and  the  best  of  the  Paladins  of  France 
beyond  the  western  wave. 

Montcalm  had  fallen  upon  evil  days.  As  he  was  born  in 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  HE  MOHTCALM. 


597 


1712  and  died  in  1759,  the  whole  of  his  life,  except  his 
early  infancy,  was  comprised  in  the  period  of  the  reign  of 
Louis  XY.,  perhaps  the  most  disgraceful  and  disas- 
trous period  in  the  history  of  modern  France.  Coarse  li- 
centiousness, imbecile  favoritism,  sordid  prodigality,  and 
apathetic  disregard  of  duty,  stigmatized  the  Court ; and 
the  noblesse,  who  monopolized  all  military  and  civil  com- 
mands, in  general  but  too  faithfully  imitated  the  vices  of 
their  sovereign.  A few  brilliant  exceptions  are  discernible; 
and  no  name  shines  more  purely  than  that  of  Montcalm, 
the  representative  of  a long  line  of  illustrious  ancestry, 
whose  glories,  won  in  happier  times,  he  eclipsed  by  the 
high  qualities  which  he  displayed  in  the  darkest  season  of 
temptation,  difficulty,  and  distress. 

Louis  Joseph,  Marquis  de  Montcalm  de  Saint  Yeran,  was 
born  at  the  chateau  of  Candiac,  near  Nismes,  on  the  28th 
of  February,  1712.'  He  had  an  elder  brother,  who  was  re- 
nowned as  a youthful  prodigy  of  learning,  and  who,  like 
many  other  youthful  prodigies,  died  in  childhood  of  a dis- 
ease of  the  brain.  The  two  brothers  were  educated  by  Du- 
mas, under  whom  the  future  defender  of  Canada  acquired 
a familiarity  with  the  classics,  and  a fondness  for  literature, 
which  distinguished  him  throughout  life  ; and  which  would 
probably  have  given  him  celebrity  as  a writer  and  a scholar, 
if  the  circumstances  of  his  rank  and  social  station  had  not 
devoted  him,  while  still  young,  to  a military  career. 

He  soon  attracted  notice  in  the  French  armies  both  for 
bravery  and  intelligence.  Ever  forward  to  meet  danger,  he 
received  three  wounds  at  the  battle  of  Placentia,  and  after- 
wards suffered  still  more  severely  at  the  battle  of  Exilles. 
In  1746,  when  this  last-mentioned  engagement  was  fought, 
the  Marquis  de  Montcalm  was  colonel  of  a regiment  of  in- 
fantry, and  he  there  received  a lesson,  which  he  afterwards 


• Cn  de  ees  ancetres,  Jean  de  Montcalm,  avail  eponse  Jeanne  de  Gozon,  petite-niece  du 
grand-maitre  Deodat  de  Gozon,  le  vainqueur  dn  dragon  qui  ddeola,  longtempe,  I’ile  de  Ithodee. 
On  aime  & voir  encore  anjoord’hui  dans  les  armes  des  Montcalm,  au-dessons  de  la  devise  qne  no- 
ire hfiros  a si  bien  jnstifiee:  “ Mon  innocence  est  ma  forUrestt"  la  figure  mysterieuse  du  redonta- 
ble  dragon.— Mordcalm  en  Canada,"  p.  2. 


698 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  BE  MONTCALM. 


turned  to  good  account,  of  how  useless  the  valor  of  tha 
best  troops  may  prove  against  fortified  lines,  though  held 
by  a very  inferior  force,  if  the  defenders  are  judiciously 
commanded. 

His  regiment  in  that  campaign  formed  part  of  the  Army 
of  Dauphine,  with  which  the  Count  de  Belleisle  endeavored 
to  penetrate  into  Piedmont,  On  the  6th  of  July,  Belleisle 
assaulted  the  entrenchments  with  which  the  Piedmontese 
had  strengthened  the  pass  of  Exilles.  The  French  columns 
advanced  gallantly  in  three  attacks,  but  were  each  time 
driven  back  with  heavy  loss  ; though  such  was  the  devoted 
valor  with  which  the  assaults  were  made,  that  some  of  the 
French  soldiers,  who  had  reached  the  foot  of  the  batteries, 
sprang  into  the  enemy’s  lines  through  the  embrasures  in  the 
fortification,  when  the  Piedmontese  cannons  recoiled  after  a 
discharge. 

Enraged  at  these  repulses,  the  Count  de  Belleisle,  to 
whom  a marshal’s  baton  had  been  promised  if  he  could 
force  his  way  into  Piedmont,  collected  the  oflBcers  of  his 
army,  formed  them  into  a single  column,  and  placing  him- 
self at  their  head,  with  the  French  colors  in  his  hand,  led 
them  on  in  person  to  a last  and  desperate  charge.  Rush- 
ing forward  through  a fire  that  thinned  their  ranks  at  every 
step,  this  dauntless  cohort  of  French  nobility  came  sword 
in  hand  upon  their  sheltered  foes.  Though  wounded  by  a 
musket-ball  as  he  advanced,  Belleisle  planted  the  French 
standard  within  the  Piedmontese  lines,  and  was  tearing 
down  the  palisades,  when  he  was  run  through  with  a bayo- 
net. Unable  to  force  their  way  forward,  and  unwilling  to 
retreat,  the  greater  part  of  his  officers  were  killed  around 
him.  Montcalm  was  one  of  the  few  that  escaped.  He  was 
wounded,  and  had  fallen,  but  was  borne  back  by  some  of 
his  surviving  comrades  to  the  French  position. 

On  recovering  from  the  effects  of  that  dreadful  day,  Mont- 
calm returned  to  active  service ; and  continued  to  distin- 
guish himself,  as  he  gradually  rose  in  rank  in  the  French 
armies,  in  Italy  and  in  Herman y.  In  1756,  he  was  a Field- 
marshal  ; and  in  that  year  he  received  the  perilous  honor 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM. 


599 


of  being  nominated  commander-in-chief  of  the  French  forces 
in  North  America,  and  of  being  intrusted  with  the  mission  of 
striving  to  rescue  Canada  from  the  dangerous  grasp  of  Eng- 
land. 

The  amplitude  of  the  dominion  which  the  French  once 
held  in  North  America  has  already  been  described  in  the 
words  of  Chateaubriand.  But  a single  glance  at  the  map  is 
more  convincing  than  the  most  eloquent  and  copious  de- 
scription. On  looking  at  the  chart  of  the  eastern  coast  of 
America  below  the  barren  limits  of  the  Arctic  circle,  the 
broad  estuary  of  the  St.  Lawrence  fixes  the  attention. 
Passing  inland  along  the  line  of  this  mighty  river  in  a 
southwesterly  direction,  by  Cape  Breton  and  Nova  Scotia, 
and  thence  through  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  we  reach 
Lake  Ontario  and  Lake  Erie,  the  two  first  of  the  remarka- 
ble chain  of  lakes,  or  rather  of  inland  seas,  which  belt 
round  the  habitable  districts  of  the  New  World  as  far  as 
the  neighborhood  of  the  sources  of  the  Mississippi,  of  the 
great  river  that  rolls  its  waters  from  the  precincts  of  Lake 
Superior  for  over  three  thousand  miles  from  north  to  south, 
till,  flowing  through  Louisiana,  they  fall  into  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico. 

France  claimed  to  possess,  and  actually  had  organized 
the  colonization  of  the  whole  of  the  territories  that  form 
the  basin  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  magnificent  valley  of 
the  Mississippi.'  She  had  founded  the  city  of  New  Orleans 
on  the  embouchure  of  the  last  of  these  rivers,  and  the  cities 
of  Montreal  and  Quebec  on  the  most  commanding  sites  of 
the  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  Round  New  Orleans  she 
had  colonized  a district,  which  she  had  named  after  her 
“Grand  Monarque,”  Louisiana.  But  on  the  line  of  the 
great  northern  river  she  had  founded  the  far  more  impor- 
tant settlements  of  Canada;  and  had  also  colonized  Cape 
Breton  and  Acadia,  which  gave  the  apparent  command  of 
the  entrance  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  as  her  Louisianian  settle 
meut  gave  her  that  of  the  Mississippi. 


■ “ La  vall^  da  MisBissippi  eat  & tont  prendre  la  plaa  magniflqne  demenre  qne  Dien  alt  jamala 
preparee  poor  rhomme.” — D4  TocqveviUe. 


600 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM. 


Her  wisest  statesmen  had  urged  on  the  Court  of  Ver- 
sailles the  expediency  of  forming  a line  of  fortifications 
throughout  the  intermediate  space  between  Canada  and 
Louisiana,  and  also  of  sending  out  ten  thousand  French 
peasants  to  form  settlements  under  the  shelter  of  these  for- 
tifications along  the  shores  of  the  most  southerly  of  the 
great  lakes,  and  along  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  and  its 
western  affluents.  This  bold  and  wise  project  was  slighted 
by  the  home  government ; but  the  able  men  who  com- 
manded in  Canada  for  France  did  much  for  its  realization. 

The  conflict  between  the  French  and  British  races  in 
America  had  been  long  and  chequered;  but  the  balance  of 
advantage  and  of  resources  for  further  struggles  was  de- 
cidedly against  France,  when  Montcalm  received  the  dan- 
gerous dignity  of  Military  Commander  of  Canada.  When 
the  great  war  of  the  Spanish  Succession  was  terminated  in 
Europe,  some  clauses  were  added  to  the  Treaty  of  Utrecht, 
by  which  Louis  XI Y.  ceded  away  forever,  with  igno- 
rant indifference,  the  noble  province  of  Acadia,  or 
Nova  Scotia,  the  inexhaustible  fisheries  of  New  Foundland, 
and  his  claims  to  the  vast  but  almost  unknown  regions  of 
Hudson’s  Bay. 

The  forty-three  years  that  followed  1713  had  been  partly 
times  of  open  war ; and  they  had  always  been  times  of  act- 
ive real  hostility  between  the  French  and  English  in 
America,  even  when  the  two  nations  were  nominally  at 
peace.  In  the  midsummer  of  1756,  the  first  year  of  the 
Seven  Years’  War,  the  English  had  experienced  several 
disasters,  but  on  the  whole  they  were  slowly  gaining  the 
mastery  over  the  French  in  America.  Braddock’s  defeat 
on  the  8th  of  July,  1755,  had  caused  the  crushed  arms  of 
Britain  to  recede  for  a time  from  the  Ohio. ' But  Oswego,  the 

* General  Braddock  was  the  headstrong  commander-in-chief  of  England’s  forces  in  her  North 
American  colonies.  He  had  been  sent  ont  in  the  spring  of  1755,  and  in  the  snmmer  of 
the  same  year,  he  began  his  unfortunate  expedition  against  Fort  Dnquesne,  a French 
stronghold  on  the  Ohjo,  at  the  present  site  of  Pittsburgh.  He  left  the  frontiers  of  Vir- 
ginia OTth  2,500  men.  After  a time  he  grew  impatient  at  the  slowness  of  the  march,  or 
dered  General  Dunbar  to  follow  him  with  the  baggage,  and  pushed  on  with  1.200  light  troops. 
This  was  done  at  the  advice  of  Washington,  who  was  one  of  his  aids-de-camp.  The  latter  had 
already  warned  Braddock  of  th% Indian  mode  of  fighting;  and  even  Benjamin  Franklin,  who 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  BE  MONTCALM. 


601 


most  important  post  on  the  line  of  operations  from  Canada 
towards  the  Mississippi,  was  in  English  hands;  and,  on  the 
line  of  Lake  Champlain  and  Lake  George,  Sir  William 
Johnson,  at  the  head  of  the  militia  of  the  New  England 
States,  had  gained  considerable  advantages,  and  had  es- 
tablished and  garrisoned  two  forts,  named  Fort  William 
Henry  and  Fort  Edward. 

The  number  of  regular  European  troops  collected  in 
the  English  colonies,  far  outnumbered  those  in  Canada. 
And  the  difference  between  the  population  of  Canada 
and  that  of  the  English  colonies  was  such  as  to  throw  fear- 
ful odds  into  the  scale  against  those  whose  duty  it  was  to 
uphold  the  fleur-de-lis  of  France  against  the  blood-stained 
flag  of  England  in  the  New  World.  The  whole  number 
of  the  Tiabitans  of  Canada,  when  Montcalm  arrived  there, 
did  not  amount  to  sixty  thousand.  The  population  of  the 
thirteen  English  colonies  exceeded  a million  and  a quarter. 
The  difference  in  w'ealth  and  resources  was  perhaps  even 
greater.* 

Earnest  entreaties  had  been  sent  from  Quebec  to  Paris 
for  assistance  in  what  w^as  now  felt  to  be  the  decisive  strug- 
gle betw^een  the  French  and  English  in  America.  With  all  its 
faults,  the  French  Court  cannot  be  denied  the  praise  of  having 
generally  selected  men  of  eminent  ability  to  fill  the  stations 


risited  the  General  at  Frederickton,  did  the  same.  But  it  was  words  thrown  away.  The 
Cnglish  commander-in-chief  was  a vain  man,  and  held  the  provincial  troops  and  the  Indians  in 
tontempt.  His  self-confidence  proved  his  ruin.  'When  he  was  less  than  seven  miles  from  Fort 
Duqiiesne,  he  was  suddenly  attacked  on  the  8th  of  July,  1755,  by  about  800  Indians  and  a few 
Frenchmen,  commanded  by  an  officer  with  no  higher  rank  than  that  of  Captain.  The  French  and 
Indians  were  posted  chiefly  behind  trees.  The  English  were  in  open  ground,  and  were  scorched 
by  deadly  volleys  of  musketry.  As  the  officers  led  their  men  against  .he  unseen  loes,  ;hey 
themselves  were  shot  down.  Braddock  was  killed,  after  exhibiting  the  most  obstinate  bravery. 
The  British  troops  fell  into  confusion,  and  it  took  all  the  skill  of  Washington  to  cover  a precip- 
itate retreat.  It  was  a most  disastrous  day  for  the  English;  800  of  their  number  were  killed  and 
of  these  62  were  officers. — Scott. 

> What  was  the  respective  situations  of  the  two  colonies  as  they  proceeded  to  contend  .n  a 
deadly  duel?  The  English  plantations,  with  their  1,500,000  inhabitants,  were  at  this  period 
twenty  times  more  populous  than  Canada,  which  then  numbered  only  80,000.  At  the  same  time 
their  territory,  more  compact  and  infinitely  less  extended  than  that  of  Canada , was  more  easy  of 
defense.  Besides,  it  was  backed  by  the  sea,  and  in  direct  communication  with  the  metropolis  ; 
while  after  the  loss  of  Acadia,  Canada  had  no  other  avenue  than  the  St.  Lawrence.  To  these 
advantages  of  situation  and  number  add  another,  ihe  British  colonies  were  more  rich  and  flour- 
ishing.—Bonnechose,  "Montcalm  et  U Canada  Fran^aia.  ' 


602 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  BE  MONTCALM. 


of  high  command  in  its  provinces;  and  it  was  from  his 
reputation  not  only  for  courage  and  military  skill,  but  for 
general  intellectual  capacity  and  energy,  that  Montcalm 
now  received  the  appointment  of  Commander-in-chief  of 
the  French  armies  in  Canada. 


CHAPTER  II. 

MONTCALM  IN  AMERICA. 

At  Quebec — The  chief  strongholds — The  Indians  as  allies 
— Montcalm  greatly  loved  by  the  dusJcy  chiefs  and 
warriors — At  Fort  Frontenac — The  storming  of  Oswego 
— The  capture  of  Fort  William  Henry — Famine — The 
battle  of  Ticonderoga — Great  foresight  of  Montcalm — 
The  battle  of  the  Plains  of  Abraham  at  Quebec — Wolfe''  s 
victory — Montcalm  mortally  wounded — His  last  hours 
— His  death — His  personal  appearance. 

The  Marquis  de  Montcalm  took  with  him  to  America  five 
veteran  regiments  of  the  French  army,  some  of  which  had 
already  been  under  his  command,  and  all  of  which  he 
brought  to  Canada  in  the  highest  possible  state  of  equip- 
ment and  efficiency.  He  arrived  at  Quebec  in  the  summer 
of  1756,  and  remained  there  only  a few  days  to  refresh  his 
troops,  and  make  himself  master  of  the  state  of  affairs  in 
Canada,  and  of  the  position  and  probable  plans  of  the 
enemy’s  forces. 

At  this  time  the  English  held  Oswego  with  about  four- 
teen hundred  regular  troops.  Lord  Loudon  and  General 
Abercromby  were  at  Albany,  on  the  Hudson,  with  the  main 
force,  of  more  than  ten  thousand  soldiers,  partly  British 
and  partly  provincial.  From  that  point  the  English  army 
could  move  either  upon  Oswego,  or  upon  Lake  Champlain. 
An  English  force  under  General  Winslow  was  already  in 
the  vicinity  of  this  lake,  and  threatened  the  French  strong- 
hold of  Crown  Point  and  Ticonderoga. 

Montcalm  resolved  to  strike  an  effective  blow  upon  the  Eng- 
lish power  at  one  of  its  two  advanced  points  before  support 
could  be  given  from  Lord  Loudon’s  central  but  more  remote 

603 

11 


604 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM. 


army.  Oswego*  was  Montcalm’s  mark;  but  he  first  made 
a rapid  journey  to  Ticonderoga,  improved  its  defenses,  and 
assured  it  as  far  as  possible  from  capture,  while  he  concen- 
trated the  chief  part  of  the  French  force  upon  Oswego. 
Returning  rapidly  from  Ticonderoga,  he  collected  at  Mont- 
real the  veteran  regiments  that  he  had  brought  from 
France,  and  a considerable  force  of  the  Canadian  militia. 
With  these  he  marched  to  Fort  Frontenac  (now  Kingston), 
near  the  northeastern  extremity  of  Lake  Ontario,  and  on 
the  5th  of  August  mustered  his  European  and  Canadian 
troops,  and  also  a large  force  of  confederate  Indian  war- 
riors. 

The  co-operation  of  the  native  tribes  was  eagerly  sought 
both  by  the  French  and  the  English  in  their  struggles  for 
ascendency  in  America.  The  Indians  were  nearly  useless 
against  regular  troops  in  an  encounter  in  a fair  field,  as  it 
was  found  impossible  to  bring  them  under  effective  disci- 
pline, or  to  check  their  ferocious  cruelty.  But  they  were 
formidable  combatants  in  the  irregular  warfare  which  nec- 
essarily formed  a main  part  of  a contest  carried  on 
amid  the  primeval  wildernesses  and  forests  of  North 
America.  The  French  far  surpassed  the  English  in  the  skill 
with  which  they  ingratiated  themselves  with  the  Red  Men 
of  the  New  World;  and  Montcalm  wag  peculiarly  eminent 
for  the  ascendency  which  he  acquired  over  the  native 
warriors. 

The  personal  description  which  is  given  of  Montcalm 
might  at  first  lead  us  to  suppose  that  he  was  less  fitted  to 
become  popular  among  the  dignified  chiefs  and  warriors  of  the 
Indian  tribes  than  among  the  ranks  of  his  brave  and  courte- 
ous countrymen.  He  is  described  as  “small  in  stature, 
rapid  in  conversation,  and  of  restless  mobility.”  But  his 
courage,  his  remarkable  power  of  enduring  privations  and 
fatigue,  the  cheerful  readiness  with  which  he  set  the  example 
of  facing  every  necessary  danger  and  bearing  every  hard- 
ship, the  skill  which  he  showed  in  concealing  his  plans 


• In  New  York. 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  BE  MONTCALM. 


606 


from  the  enemy,  the  energetic  celerity  with  which  he  dealt 
his  blows,  and  the  adroitness  with  which  he  withdrew  from 
the  counter-blows  that  were  aimed  at  him,  soon  raised  him 
high  in  the  estimation  of  his  native  allies ; and  no  other 
European  general  ever  was  so  well  aided  by  the  Indians 
as  was  Montcalm,  not  only  during  the  successes  of  the  first 
years  of  his  command,  but  also  during  the  reverses  and 
difficulties  of  the  latter  portion  of  his  American  career. 

On  the  5th  of  August,  1756,  Montcalm  reviewed  at  Fort 
Frontenac  the  force  with  which  he  designed  to  capture  Os 
wego ; on  the  9th  he  had  placed  a division  of  his  army  within 
a mile  and  a half  of  the  British  position  without  his  ap- 
proach having  been  discovered;  and  on  the  12th  he  had  his 
whole  force  assembled,  and  opened  his  lines  against  a small 
fort  which  the  British  had  raised  near  Oswego,  as  an  ad- 
vanced work  lor  its  defense.  On  the  13th  the  small  fort 
was  capture  , and  on  the  evening  of  the  14th  Montcalm 
had  battered  down  part  of  the  walls  of  Oswego  itself.  The 
English  commander  and  many  of  his  men  had  fallen  beneath 
the  superior  fire  of  the  besiegers,  and  the  remainder  of  the 
garrison  surrendered.  Two  English  regiments  thus  became 
Montcalm’s  prisoners;  one  hundred  and  twenty  cannons, 
six  vessels  of  war,  a large  fiotilla  of  barks,  which  had  been 
collected  on  the  river  close  to  the  fort,  three  chests  of  gold, 
and  an  imm.ense  quantity  of  provisions  and  military  stores, 
were  also  the  fruits  of  this  enterprise.* 

Immediately  after  his  victory,  Montcalm  paid  due  hom- 
age to  the  God  of  victories.  In  the  middle  of  the  enclosure 
of  the  fort  he  planted  a large  Cross,  with  this  inscription 
In  hoc  signo  mncunt,  “ by  this  sign  we  have  conquered." 
The  Abbe  Piquot  blessed  the  pious  monument.  Near  this 
Cross  he  raised  a post  which  bore  the  arms  of  France  and  an 
other  inscription,  worthy  alike  of  a polished  and  great  com- 
mander'-Jl/aw?&W5  date  lilia  plenis. 

' The  offensive  works  of  Oswego  were  quite  formidable  for  the  time  and  country.  They  con- 
sisted of  three  detached  forts,  named  respectively  Ontario,  Chouaguen  (the  ancient  name  of  Os- 
wego), and  George.  The  plan  of  these  works  can  be  seen  in  “ Montcalm  en  Canada,”  p.  35. 
The  English  garrison  numbered  nearly  8,000.  Montcalm’s  force  consisted,  according  to  his  owb 
account,  of  1,300  regttlar  troops,  1,500  Canadians,  and  250  Indians,  or  a total  of  3,(^. 


606 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  BE  MONTCALM. 


The  Iroquois  had  looked  on  the  existence  of  a European 
fort  at  Oswego  with  peculiar  jealousy  and  ill-will ; and  in 
order  to  secure  their  friendship,  Montcalm  had  the  sagacity 
to  forego  the  immediate  advantage  of  placing  a French  gar- 
rison at  the  spot,  and  caused  the  remains  of  the  defenses 
to  be  leveled  with  the  ground. 

This  splendid  success  raised  high  the  military  reputation 
of  France  in  the  New  World  ; and  Montcalm  signalized  the 
following  year  by  an  equally  bold  and  brilliant  achievement. 
Lord  Loudon,  the  English  commander  in  America,  resolved 
to  make  the  siege  of  Louisburg,  in  Cape  Breton,  the  great 
operation  of  the  campaign  of  1757.  Montcalm  watched  in 
grim  expectation,  until  Loudon,  by  drawing  away  the 
flower  of  the  British  forces  to  this  distant  enterprise,  gave 
him  the  opportunity  of  striking  a blow  on  the  advanced 
posts  of  English  power  near  Lake  George,  like  that  which 
he  had  dealt  them  near  Lake  Ontario. 

Colonel  Monro  held  Fort  William  Henry  with  a garrison 
of  two  thousand  men,  and  General  Webb  had  a force  of 
four  thousand  more  at  Fort  Edward.  Montcalm  deter- 
mined to  surprise  and  capture  Fort  William  Henry.  He 
suddenly  collected  the  warriors  of  thirty-three  Indian 
tribes  and  his  French  veterans,  with  heavy  ordnance  and 
stores  for  a siege,  at  Ticonderoga,  and  thence  moved  rap- 
idly southward  on  his  intended  prey.  It  had  been  a season 
of  scarcity  in  Canada.  But  small  stores  were  collected  for 
the  army.  They  must  conquer  speedily  or  disband.  “On 
such  an  expedition,”  said  Montcalm  to  his  officers,  “a  blan- 
ket and  a bearskin  are  the  warrior’s  couch.  Do  like  me 
with  cheerful  good-wull.  The  soldier’s  allowance  is  enough 
for  us.” 

Enabled  by  the  zeal  of  his  troops  and  his  Indian  allies  to 
drag  a flotilla  of  canoes  and  boats  across  the  neck  of  land 
between  Lake  Champlain  and  Lake  George,  and  to  traverse 
unobserved  the  northern  part  of  the  last  lake,  Montcalm, 
on  the  2d  of  August,  brought  his  full  force,  amounting  to 
eight  thousand  men,  close  upon  Fort  William  Henry  ; and 
on  the  6th  the  trenches  had  been  dug  and  the  besieging  bat- 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  BE  MONTCALM. 


607 


teries  opened.  Monro  and  his  garrison  bravely  resisted  for 
two  days  ; but  their  ammunition  began  to  fail.  Webb  re 
fused  to  march  to  their  assistance,  and  on  the  9th  of  August 
they  capitulated.  Fort  William  Henry,  like  Fort  Oswego, 
was  leveled  to  the  earth.* 

The  news  of  its  fall  reached  Lord  Loudon,  in  Cape  Bre- 
ton, and  recalledjiim  from  his  inefficient  operations  against 
Louisburg  to  defend  Xew  York.  The  downfall  of  the  Brit- 
ish power  in  America  was  thought  by  many  to  be  imminent, 
and  though  Montcalm’s  means  were  inadequate  for  follow^- 
ing  up  his  success  by  a regular  invasion  of  the  English  col- 
onies, he  girt  their  whole  landward  frontier  wuth  flame  and 
desolation.  Numerous  bands  of  Canadians  and  Indians 
made  incessant  inroads  into  the  territory  of  every  British 
settlement,  from  New  Hampshire  and  Massachusetts  round 
to  the  Carolinas. 

But  though  thus  triumphant  in  the  field,  the  heroic  Mont- 
calm felt  his  strength  gradually  diminishing,  and  knew  too 
well  how  inadequate  were  the  resources  of  Canada,  against 
those  which  the  English  in  America  still  possessed  against 
him.  His  enterprises  and  the  incessant  border- warfare 
called  nearly  the  whole  serviceable  male  population  of  Can- 
ada away  from  the  labors  of  agriculture.  A scarcity  of 
corn  and  other  provisions  was  the  inevitable  result. 

In  a dispatch  written  by  Montcalm  to  the  French  minis- 
try in  February,  1758,  the  victorious  General  says,  “I  shud- 
der when  I think  of  provisions.  The  famine  is  very  great. 
In  spite  of  all  our  success,  Canada  needs  peace,  or  sooner 
or  later  it  must  fall ; such  are  the  numbers  of  the  English, 
such  the  difficulty  of  our  receiving  supplies.”  He  was  ur- 
gent in  his  entreaties  for  reinforcements  in  troops,  artillery, 
and  munitions  ; but  the  French  Government  gave  itself  no 
trouble  about  the  fate  of  Canada  ; while,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  English  Government  had  passed,  in  1757,  into  the  ener 
getic  hands  of  the  elder  Pitt,  whose  favorite  project  was 


> The  plan  of  Fort  William  Henry  can  be  seen  in  ' Montcalm  en  Canada,”  p.  81. 
See  also  the  “ Journal  of  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton,”  p.  49,  etc. 


608 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM. 


the  destruction  of  French  power  in  America,  and  who  em* 
ployed  the  vast  resources  of  England  unsparingly  and 
pertinaciously  for  the  complete  conquest  of  Canada.  Yet 
for  twelve  months  more  did  the  splendid  genius  of  Mont- 
calm delay  that  event ; and  the  year  1758  was  marked 
by  the  most  brilliant,  though  it  was  the  last,  of  his  victo- 
ries. 

Three  expeditions  were  undertaken  by  the  British  this 
year  in  America.  Louisburg  was  attacked  by  a formida- 
ble armament  from  England.  A force  of  fifteen  thousand 
regular  British  troops  and  five  thousand  provincials  was 
formed  in  Philadelphia  under  General  Forbes,  and  destined 
to  capture  Fort  Duquesne,  and  drive  the  French  from  the 
valley  of  the  Ohio.  The  largest  European  army  yet  seen  in 
the  New  World  was  collected  at  Albany,  under  General 
Abercrombie,  and  designed  to  conquer  the  French  forts  at 
Ticonderoga  and  Crown  Point,  and  advance  by  Lake  Cham- 
plain into  Canada. 

Montcalm  knew  this  to  be  the  most  formidable  of  the 
blows  leveled  at  his  province;  and  he  determined  to  meet 
it  in  person.  Abercrombie  set  his  army  in  motion  early  in 
July,  and  reached  the  northwestern  shore  of  Lake  George 
a little  to  the  south  of  Ticonderoga.  He  had  fifteen  thou- 
sand men,  more  than  six  thousand  of  whom  were  regular 
British  troops.  Montcalm  had  not  more  than  three  thou- 
sand French  soldiers,  and  about  five  hundred  Canadians. 
But  he  remembered  the  day  of  Exilles,  and  fortified  a posi- 
tion in  front  of  Ticonderoga  with  an  earthen  breastwork  and 
a thick  abattis  of  felled  trees.  Abercrombie  made  no  at- 
tempt to  turn  his  line,  but  sent  the  British  infantry  forward 
to  storm  the  center  of  Montcalm’s  well-chosen  position. 

As  the  regiments  of  Britain  struggled  on  the  8th  of  July, 
1758,  amid  the  felled  trees  that  formed  the  front  of  the  French 
position,  Montcalm’ s men,  admirably  posted  behind  the 
breastwork,  shot  them  down  by  hundreds.  Hour  after 
hour  did  this  scene  of  butchery  continue.  The  obstinate 
courage  of  the  English  only  served  to  increase  the  carnage. 
At  last,  the  attacking  columns  in  their  fright,  confusion, 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  BE  MONTCALM. 


609 


and  desperation,  fired  upon  each  other.  Wild  disorder 
followed,  and,  finally,  Abercrombie’s  once  splendid  but  now 
shattered  army  fled  in  utter  and  disgraceful  rout,  leaving 
nearly  5, 000  men  in  killed  and  wounded,  while  Montcalm’ s lit- 
tle force  only  lost  390.  ‘ 

Writing  to  his  friend  Doreil,  on  the  evening  of  the  vic- 
tory, Montcalm  says,  “The  King’s  little  army  has 
whipped  its  enemies.  What  a day  for  France ! If  I had 
had  200  Indians  to  serve  at  the  head  of  a detachment  of 
1,000  picked  men,  I would  have  given  the  command  of  them 
to  the  Chevalier  de  Levis,  and  few  of  the  English  could  have 
escaped.  Ah ! what  troops  are  ours,  my  dear  Doreil.  I 
never  saw  anything  to  match  them!  ” ’ 


* The  plan  of  this  battle,  termed  by  French  writers  the  “ bataille  de  Carillon,**  may  be  seen  in 
‘•Montcalm  en  Canada,”  p.  128. 

* The  following  extract  is  from  the  Journal  of  the  famous  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton.  It  was 
written  on  his  visit  to  Canada  in  1776,  as  one  of  the  Commissioners  from  Congress: 

“ 22rf  April.  I this  morning  took  a ride  with  General  Schuyler  across  the  portage,  or  from  the 
landing  place  at  the  bottom  of  Lake  George  to  Ticonderoga.  The  landing  place  is  properly  on 
the  river  which  runs  out  of  Lake  George  into  Lake  Champlain,  and  may  be  a mile  and  a naif 
from  the  place  where  the  former  may  be  said  to  terminate,  i.^.,  where  the  lake  is  contracted  into  a 
river,  as  a current  and  shallow  water.  This  river,  computing  its  length  from  the  aforesaid  spot 
to  the  foot  of  the  falls  at  the  saw-mills,  and  its  windings,  which  are  inconsiderable,  is  not  more 
than  four  or  five  miles  long.  Prom  the  foot  of  the  saw-mill  falls  there  is  Stillwater  into  Lake 
Champlain.  It  is  at  the  foot  of  these  falls  that  the  batteaux,  brought  over  land,  are  launched 
into  the  water,  and  the  artillery  and  the  apparatus  belonging  to  it  are  embarked  in  them:  the 
stores,  such  as  provisions,  ball,  powder,  etc.,  are  embarked  from  Ticonderoga.  At  sixty  or 
seventy  yards  below  the  saw-mill  there  is  a bridge  over  the  river.  This  bridge  was  built  by  the 
King  during  the  last  war;  the  road  from  the  landing  place  to  Ticonderoga  passes  over  it,  and 
you  then  have  the  river  on  the  right;  when  you  have  passed  the  bridge  you  immediately  ascend 
a pretty  high  hill,  and  keep  ascending  till  you  reach  the  famous  lines  made  by  the  French  in  the 
last  war,  which  Abercrombie  was  so  infatuated  as  to  attack  with  musketry  only — his  cannon 
was  lying  at  the  bridge,  about  a mile  or  something  better  from  these  lines. 

The  event  of  the  day  is  too  well  known  to  be  mentioned;  we  lost  near  1.600  men!  Had  the  can- 
non been  brought  up  the  French  would  not  have  waited  to  be  attacked;  it  was  morally  impossi- 
ble to  succeed  against  these  lines  with  small  arms  only,  particularly  in  the  manner  they  were  at- 
tacked— our  army  passing  before  them,  and  receiving  a fire  from  the  whole  extent.  Whereas, 
had  it  marched  lower  down,  or  to  the  northwest  of  these  lines,  it  would  have  flanked  them;  they 
were  constructed  of  large  trunks  of  trees,  felled  on  each  other,  with  earth  thrown  up  against 
them.  On  the  side  next  the  French  troops,  they  had,  besides  felling  trees,  lopped  and  sharpened 
their  branches,  and  turned  them  towards  the  enemy.  The  tranks  of  the  trees  remain  to  this  day 
piled  up  as  described,  but  are  fast  going  to  decay.  As  soon  as  you  enter  these  lines  you  nave 
a full  view  of  Lake  Champlain  and  Ticonderoga  Fort,  distant  about  a quarter  of  a mile.  The 
land  from  thence  gradually  declines  to  the  spot  on  which  the  fort  is  built.  . . . Ticonderoga  Fort 
is  in  a ruinous  condition;  it  was  once  a tolerable  fortification.  The  ramparts  are  faced  w* *ith 
atone.  I saw  a few  pieces  of  cannon  mounted  on  one  bastion,  more  for  show  I apprehend,  man 
senice.  In  the  present  state  of  affaire  this  fort  is  of  no  other  use  than  as  an  entrepot  or  maga- 
zine for  stores,  as  from  this  place  all  supplies  for  our  army  in  Canada  are  shipped  to  go  down 
Lake  Champlain.  I saw  four  vessels,  viz:  Uiree  schooners  and  one  sloop;  these  are  to  be  armed. 


010 


LOma  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM. 


The  French  consecrated  a whole  day  to  the  solemn  work  of 
interring  their  heroic  dead.  Though  the  number  was  com- 
paratively small,  it  was  an  enormous  loss  for  the  struggling 
colony  of  Canada.  This  sad  work  was  accompanied  by  mil 
itary  honors  and  the  prayers  of  the  Church. 

At  the  very  summit  of  the  breastwork  which  had  wit- 
nessed the  slaughter  of  England’s  trained  and  stubborn 
cohorts,  the  pious  Montcalm  raised  a majestic  Cross  to  ren- 
der glory  to  the  God  of  victory.  To  it  he  attached  this  in- 
scription: 

“ Quid  Dux?  Quid  Miles?  Quid  strata  ingentia  ligna? 

En  SIGNU.M;!  Ex  victor!  Deus  hic  Deus  ipse  trumph.\t.”' 

The  grand  victory  of  Ticonderoga  gave  Canada  safety 
for  the  year  1758  along  the  line  of  the  lakes,  but  on  the  other 
two  scenes  of  warfare  the  English  were  successful.  Louis 
burg  and  Fort  Duquesne  were  taken:  and  it  was  known 
that  Pitt  was  resolved  to  renew  the  attack  on  Canada  in  the 
next  year  with  still  larger  forces,  led  by  abler  and  bolder 
generals.  Abandoned  by  the  French  Government,  the  gal- 
lant Montcalm  prepared  to  do  his  duty  to  the  last,  and,  in 
his  own  words,  “resolved  to  find  a grave  under  the  ruins  of 
the  colony.” 

Though  convinced  of  the  hopelessness  of  the  struggle 
which  he  was  left  to  maintain,  and  certain  that  he  must  in- 
evitably be  crushed  sooner  or  later  by  the  enemy,  Montcalm 
found  consolation  in  the  thought  that  the  conquest  of 
Canada  would  eventually  prove  a more  injurious  blow  to 
England  herself  than  to  France.* *  He  had  the  sagacity  to 
foresee  and  foretell,  that  as  soon  as  the  English  colonists 
in  America  were  relieved  from  the  pressure  of  a hostile 
French  power,  they  would  feel  themselves  independent  of 


to  keep  the  mastery  of  the  lake  in  case  we  should  lose  St.  John’s  and  be  driven  out  of  Canada;  in 
the  meantime  they  will  be  employed  in  carrying  supplies  to  our  troops  in  that  country. — Pp. 
58-60. 

* Which  may  be  thus  translated:  “ What  has  the  General  done?  What  have  the  soldien 
done?  To  what  purpose  have  these  enormous  trees  been  overturned?  Behold  the  true  standardi 
Behold  the  Conquerorl  Here,  It  is  God,  it  is  God  Himself  who  has  triumphed.” 

* See  his  letter  to  M.  Mole,  cited  in  the  Appendix  to  Warburton,  p.  507,  Vol.  IL 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  DB  MONTCALM. 


^11 


English  protection,  and  that  their  revolt  against  England 
would  be  the  speedy  result  of  that  feeling. 

The  illustrious  French  General  made  this  remarkable  pre- 
diction only  a few  days  before  his  own  death,  and  when  he 
knew  himself  to  be  a doomed  man.  Like  the  prophecy  of 
the  dying  Hector,  the  prediction  of  the  falling  defender  of 
Canada  was  speedily  and  completely  realized.  The  sur- 
render of  Cornwallis  and  his  English  regiments  at  York- 
town  followed  within  twenty- two  years  of  the  victory  of 
Wolfe  at  Quebec. 

Of  the  three  English  armies  which  assailed  Canada  in 
1759,  two  were  so  far  kept  in  check,  that,  though  they 
gained  advantages,  they  were  unable  to  reach  Quebec  and  co- 
operate in  its  reduction.  And  had  the  third  English  army 
been  commanded  by  an  ordinary  general,  that  also  would 
have  been  baffled  and  out-generaled  by  the  skilful  tactics  of 
Montcalm,  and  compelled  at  the  approach  of  winter  to  retire 
' from  the  uncaptured  walls  of  the  Canadian  capital. 

Even  against  the  frowns  of  inevitable  misfortune  and  the  ge- 
nius of  Wolfe,  with  an  army  of  chosen  troops,  the  great  Mont- 
calm long  maintained  the  advantage ; and  on  the  last  day  of 
July,  he  gave  the  British  General  a severe  repulse  in  an  at- 
tempt made  to  storm  the  French  lines  at  Montmorenci. 

When  at  length  Wolfe  succeeded  in  placing  his  army  on 
the  Plains  of  Abraham,'  above  Quebec,  the  Marquis  de 


* So-called  because  this  district  of  country  was  the  property  of  Abraham  Martin,  Pilot  to  the 
King  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  in  1646.  The  name  has  become  historic.  The  writer  has  often  stood 
on  the  Plains  of  Abraham— to  this  day  a vast  common  situated  some  distance  west  of  the  great 
military  works  which  crown  the  summit  of  Cape  Diamond,  directly  above  the  city  of  Quebec.  A 
monument  marks  the  spot  where  Wolfe  fell.  The  ground  where  the  battle  was  fought  is  not 
entirely  level,  but  somewhat  uneven  and  broken  in  appearance.  The  French,  it  seems,  occupied 
the  higher  ground  towards  the  city,  but  this  was  the  only  advantage  they  possessed.  Montcalm's 
force  was  largely  made  up  of  militia  and  Indians.  As  regards  the  numbers  on  each  side,  the 
learned  and  very  accurate  author  of  “Montcalm  en  Canada ’’puts  the  English  at  4,828  men; 
the  French  at  4,500.  The  English  force,  it  must  be  remembered,  consisted  of  picked  troops — the 
very  elite  of  the  army. 

It  is  curious  to  notice  how  authorities  differ  as  to  the  number  of  troops  on  each  side  in  this 
historic  battle. 

Bancroft  gives  the  French  5,000;  the  English  5,000.  Gamean,  the  French  4.500,  the  English 

8.000.  Beatson,  the  French  7.500;  the  English  4.828.  Dnssieui,  the  French,  4,500;  the  English 

5.000.  Hawkina.  the  French  5.000.  the  English,  4.800. 

The  figures  given  by  Gameau  to  the  English,  and  by  Beate«n  to  the  French,  are  evidently  er. 
aggerated. 


612 


LOUIS  JOSEPH  BE  MONTCALM. 


Montcalm  led  his  feeble  force  to  the  desperate  undertaking 
of  dislodging  the  English — by  which  alone  the  city  could  be 
saved — with  as  much  impetuous  valor  as  he  had  previously 
shown  caution  and  coolness.  But  the  result  of  the  encoun- 
ter between  Wolfe’s  carefully  chosen  veterans  and  “Mont- 
calm’s five  weak  French  battalions  mingled  with  disorderly 
peasantry”  could  scarcely  be  doubtful.  The  genius  of  no 
one  man  could  have  changed  the  tide  of  victory;  and  Can- 
ada soon  became  a part  of  the  British  empire.' 

Early  in  the  action,  Montcalm  was  struck  by  a musket- 
ball  ; but  with  dauntless  courage  he  continued  to  cheer  on 
his  men  that  fought,  and  to  rally  those  who  fied,  till  he 
received  a second  bullet.  He  fell  mortally  wounded.  As 
he  was  borne  into  Quebec,  some  women,  seeing  the  blood 
flowing  from  his  wounds,  exclaimed:  “The  Marquis  is 
killed!”  He  graciously  reassured  them,  and  told  them 
not  to  feel  anxious,  as  it  was  nothing  serious. 

On  being  taken  to  the  residence  of  the  surgeon  his  wound 
was  pronounced  mortal.  “How  long  have  I yet  to  live?” 
calmly  demanded  the  dying  hero.  “Ten  or  twelve  hours, 
at  the  most,”  replied  the  surgeon.  “ The  shorter  the  bet- 
ter,’ returned  Montcalm;  and  he  added,  “at  least  I shall 
not  see  the  English  in* Quebec.” 

Addressing  himself  to  De  Ramezay,  the  next  in  command, 
he  said,  “To  your  care  I commit  the  honor  of  France,  and 
the  task  of  seeing  that  my  little  army  shall  retire  to-night 
above  Cape  Rouge,  in  order  to  rejoin  the  forces  of  De 
Bouganville.  As  for  me,  I am  going  to  pass  my  time  with 
God,  and  prepare  for  death.  I leave  the  affairs  of  the  King, 
my  dear  master,  in  good  hands.” 

One  of  the  very  last  acts  of  Montcalm  was  to  write  with 
his  own  trembling  hand  to  the  English  General  Townsend, 
these  words,  so. worthy  of  his  great  heart : 


’ The  French  held  out  for  about  a year  after  the  battle  of  the  Plains  of  Abraham.  On  the  8th 
of  September  .760  the  terms  of  capitulation  were  signed  by  both  parties,  and  by  this  act  all  Can- 
ada was  handed  over  to  England.  The  “articles  of  capitulation’  can  be  seen  in  the  appendix  of 
' De  Montcalm  en  Canada.’’ 


DEATH  OF  WOLF. 


L0UI8  JOSEPH  DE  MONTCALM. 


613 


“General, — 

“The  humanity  of  the  English  tranquilizes 
me,  in  relation  to  the  fate  both  of  the  French  prisoners  and 
the  Canadians.  Have  for  them  the  sentiments  which  in- 
spired myself.  Let  them  perceive  not  that  they  have 
changed  masters.  I was  their  father;  be  you  their  pro- 
tector.” 

He  now  occupied  himself  with  nothing  but  the  interests 
of  eternity.  With  the  most  lively  sentiments  of  faith  and 
piety  the  dying  commander  received  the  last  Sacraments  of 
the  Church,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  14th  of  September, 
1759,  the  day  after  the  battle  of  the  Plains  of  Abraham 
he  rendered  back  his  soul  to  God,  at  the  age  of  forty- 
eight  years.  Montcalm  was  a Catholic  hero  whom  France 
may  proudly  rank  with  her  St.  Louis  and  her  Chevalier 
Bayard,  a true  knight,  “without  fear  and  without 
reproach.” 

He  was  small  in  stature,  but  his  figure  was  manly 
and  elegant.  A pair  of  extremely  bright,  large,  and  lively 
eyes  lighted  up  his  open,  handsome,  and  most  expressive 
countenance.  An  Indian  chief,  astonished  that  a man 
who  had  accomplished  such  extraordinary  things  was  not 
of  greater  stature,  exclaimed  on  seeing  the  Marquis  for  the 
first  time  : “Ah ! you  are  small,  but  I see  in  your  eyes  the 
vivacity  of  the  eagle.” 

In  the  city  of  Quebec  several  monuments  have  been 
erected  to  the  memory  of  this  illustrious  soldier. 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY, 

THE  "FATHER  OP  THE  AMERICAN  NAVY.”* 


CHAPTER  I. 

BATTLING  FOR  FREEDOM  ON  THE  OCEAN. 

Barry' s birth-place  in  Ireland — His  love  of  the  ocean — 
Becomes  a sailor — Meets  Washington — The  Revolution 
— Barry' s bold,  enterprising  spirit — Equipping  a fleet 
— The  “ Stars  and  Stripes"  hoisted — The  first  Capture 
— Fighting  on  the  Delaware — Lord  Howe  tries  to  bribe 
Barry — Barry's  noble  answer — Fighting  with  little 
boats  and  gaining  a brilliant  victory. 

One  of  the  truest  heroes  of  the  Revolution  was  John 
Barry,  the  father  and  founder  of  the  American  Navy.  He 
was  born  in  the  year  1745,  in  the  seaside  parish  of  Tacum- 
shane,  fronting  on  the  broad  Atlantic,  in  the  county  of 
Wexford,  Ireland.  His  father  was  what  was  termed,  “a 
snug  farmer.” 

The  purest  principles  of  the  Catholic  faith  were  deeply 
impressed  upon  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  youthful  Barry, 
and  brightly  they  shone  forth  throughout  his  whole  life. 
The  home  of  his  birth  was  so  near  the  beach  that  “he  had 
but  to  step  out  of  his  own  door,  to  stand  beside  the  sea.” 
As  his  eye  daily  swept  the  majestic  Atlantic,  the  mind  of 
the  ardent  boy  expanded,  and  he  conceived  a great  fond- 
ness for  a life  on  the  ocean  wave.  His  father,  noticing  the 


■ Chief  aathorities  ased  : Clarke,  “ Memoir  of  Commodore  John  Barry,  U.  S.  M.;  ” Coop**, 
“ Naval  HUtory  of  the  United  States  : ” McGee.  “ History  of  Irish  Settlers  in  America." 

616 


616 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 


direction  of  his  inclinations,  placed  him  on  board  of  a mer 
chantman;  and,  at  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  John 
Barry  began  to  sail  regularly  between  Philadelphia  and  the 
British  ports. 

By  self-culture  and  fidelity  to  duty,  he  rose  rapidly  in 
his  chosen  profession  ; and  at  the  age  of  twenty-five  he 
was  captain  of  the  Black  Prince^  one  of  the  best  packet 
vessels  of  that  day.  The  owner  of  this  ship  was  Mr.  Mere- 
dith, of  Philadelphia,  at  whose  house  Washington  was  an 
occasional  visitor.  Here  “ the  Father  ot  his  Country  ” first 
met  the  young  sailor,  ‘ ‘ and  marked  the  future  Commo- 
dore.” 

At  the  breaking  out  of  the  Revolutionary  War,  Captain 
Barry  was  a prosperous  man,  actively  engaged  in  his  favor- 
ite profession,  and  rapidly  acquiring  a fortune.  But  early 
in  1775,  he  espoused  the  cause  of  the  oppressed  American 
colonies  and  embarked  his  all  in  the  struggles  of  his 
adopted  country.  No  American  Navy  was  then  in  existence. 
Congress  possessed  no  ships. 

Captain  Barry,  however,  was  one  of  those  bold,  enter- 
prising spirits,  suited  to  the  exigencies  of  the  times,  and 
well  fitted  for  bringing  into  existence  an  infant  navy,  which 
would  travel  the  trackless  path  of  glory  om  the  high  seas. 
He  at  once  abandoned  the  lucrative  pursuits  in  which  he 
had  been  so  fortunate,  in  order  to  hazard  all  in  a very 
doubtful  contest.  He  gave  up,  to  use  his  own  manly  words, 
“the  finest  ship  and  the  first  employ  in  America,  and  en- 
tered into  the  service  of  his  country.” 

Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1775,  Congress  purchased 
several  merchant  ships,  with  the  view  of  having  them  has- 
tily fitted  up  as  vessels  of  war,  and  committed  to  Captain 
Barry  the  equipment  of  this  fleet — the  first  that  sailed 
from  Philadelphia.  At  the  same  time,  he  superintended, 
by  the  authority  of  the  Philadelphia  Committee  of  Safety, 
the  building  of  a State  ship  for  the  public  service.  In  the 
new  squadron.  Captain  Barry  received  the  command  of  the 
brig  Lexington,  of  sixteen  guns,  then  lying  in  the  Dela- 
ware ; and  Paul  Jones  entered  as  first  lieutenant  on  the 


A 


COMMODORE  U.  S.  N. 


>1  ■ 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 


617 


Alfred.  When  the  flag  of  the  Union  was  first  adopted  by 
Congress,  the  Lexington  and  the  Alfred  were  the  first 
ships  that  hoisted  afloat  that  new  ensign  of  freedom. 

At  the  time,  our  coast  was  greatly  infested  by  the  enemy’s 
small  cruisers.  Captain  Barry  received  orders  to  proceed 
to  sea,  and  clear  our  waters  of  such  a serious  annoyance. 
This  commission  was  without  any  emolument,  but  was  none 
the  less  readily  accepted  by  the  brave,  patriotic,  and  gener- 
ous-hearted Irishman ; nor  was  he  daunted  by  the  fact  that 
an  English  ship  of  forty-two  gans  and  two  frigates  were 
watchfully  cruising  along  the  capes  of  the  Delaware. 

In  the  midst  of  this  hostile  force.  Captain  Barry  skill- 
fully accomplished  his  mission.  Besides  capturing  several 
of  the  enemy’s  smaller  cruisers,  and  forcing  the  rest  of 
them  to  take  shelter  in  port,  the  Lexington  fell  in  with  the 
Edward,  an  armed  tender  of  the  Liverpool.  A close  and 
spirited  contest  occurred.  It  lasted  nearly  an  hour,  and  re- 
sulted in  the  capture  of  the  Edward  by  the  Lexington. 

This  affair  is  worthy  of  note,  as  the  first  capture  of  any 
vessel  of  war  by  a regular  American  cruiser  in  battle.  The 
first  naval  victory  was  hailed  with  great  joy  by  the  country, 
as  an  off-set  to  the  unfortunate  contest  of  Commodore  Hop- 
kins’ squadron  with  the  Glasgow. 

Captain  Barry  was  transferred  from  the  Lexington  to  the 
command  of  the  frigate  Efingham,  then  in  building  at 
Philadelphia.  In  the  naval  establishment  created  by  the 
resolution  of  Congress,  on  the  10th  of  October,  1776,  em- 
bracing twenty-six  vessels  of  various  grades.  Captain  Barry 
was  placed  on  the  list  of  Captains,  and  he  still  retained  the 
command  of  the  Efingham.  The  rigors  of  the  winter, 
however,  having  suspended  navigation,  the  Effingham  was 
one  of  the  vessels  that  was  taken  up  the  Delaware  off 
Whitehall,  in  order  to  escape  the  British  forces,  which 
were  in  possession  of  Philadelphia  and  the  forts  of  the 
river  Ice-bound,  the  could  not  be  brought  into 

action. 

Bui  the  active,  energetic  spirit  of  Captain  Barry  would 
noi  permit  him  to  be  idle  ; and  having  won  laurels  on  the 


518 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 


ocean,  he  now  turned  his  attention  to  the  defence  of  his 
country  by  land.  Gleneral  Cadwalader  having  raised  several 
companies  of  Pennsylvanians  to  reinforce  Gleneral  Washing- 
ton s army — then  much  reduced  in  numbers  and  pressed  by 
the  Hessians— Captain  Barry  obtained  command  of  a com- 
pany and  some  heavy  cannon,  and  rendered  gallant  and 
important  services  to  the  cause  in  that  gloomy,  but  finally 
victorious  campaign.  He  acted  as  aid-de-camp  to  Cadwala- 
der, and  at  the  important  operations  at  Trenton  received 
praise  for  his  tact,  coolness,  and  courage,  winning  the  re- 
spect and  admiration  of  every  one. 

After  the  British  army,  under  Lord  Howe,  had  obtained 
possession  of  Philadelphia,  Captain  Barry  continued  in 
command  of  the  Effingham  which  was  still  ice-bound  in  the 
Delaware,  a few  miles  from  the  city,  and  in  a position 
which  the  British  Greneral  saw  could  be  rendered  of  great 
service  to  the  royal  cause,  if  the  vessel  and  her  commander 
could  only  be  gained  over.  This  he  had  some  hopes  of  ac- 
complishing, since  the  Captain  was  then  in  a position  to 
risk  nothing  personally  by  abandoning  the  patriot  for  the 
royalist  cause.  Accordingly  an  offer  of  15,000'  guineas  was 
made  to  Captain  Barry  by  Lord  Howe  if  he  would  deliver 
up  the  vessel,  and  to  this  was  added  the  offer  of  the 
command  of  a British  sTiip  of  the  line. 

The  English  bribe  was  indignantly  rejected  by  the  heroic 
Barry,  and  this  noble  answer  returned,  that  “he  had  de- 
voted himself  to  the  cause  of  his  country,  and  not  the  value 
or  command  of  the  whole  British  fleet  could  seduce  him 
from  it.”  Early  in  1777  the  British,  unhappily,  succeeded 
in  burning  the  American  vessels  in  the  Delaware;  and  thus 
the  Effingham  perished  with  the  rest. 

Among  other  bold  enterprises  undertaken  by  Captain 
Barry  during  the  winter  that  his  ship  lay  ice-bound  up  the 
Delaware  was  the  daring  plan  of  annoying  the  enemy  by 
means  of  small  boats  properly  manned,  which,  being  sta- 
tioned down  the  river  and  bay,  might  intercept  supplies, 


Equal  to  about  $80,000. 


COMMODORE  JOHX  BAKR7. 


619 


and,  in  case  of  danger,  take  refuge  in  the  creeks,  into 
which  the  vessels  of  the  enemy  could  not  pursue  them.  He 
planned  and  coolly  executed  several  such  attacks;  and  they 
resulted  in  great  damage  to  the  enemy,  and  in  the  seizure  of 
supplies  of  invaluable  service  to  the  American  army. 

On  one  occasion,  in  particular,  he  fitted  out  from  Bur- 
lington four  row-boats,  and  proceeded  with  muffled  oars 
down  the  Delaware,  which  was  filled  with  the  shipping  and 
smaller  craft  of  the  enemy.  Some  alarm  was  given  at  one 
point  of  the  passage ; but  dashing  onward,  two  of  the 
tiny  boats  passed  on  uninjured,  and  with  sudden  and 
daring  intrepidity  the  little  force,  under  Captain  Barry, 
attacked  the  enemy’s  two  ships  and  a schooner  loaded  with 
valuable  provisions  for  the  British  land  forces. 

The  two  English  ships  mounted  six  four-pounders,  with 
fourteen  men  each;  and  the  schooner,  which  was  attached  to 
the  engineering  department,  mounted  eight  double-fortified 
four-pounders  and  twelve  four-pound  howitzers,  and  was 
manned  with  thirty-three  hands.  Captain  Barry  had  only 
twenty- eight  men.  The  hostile  force,  however,  was  thrown 
into  dismay  by  so  sudden  and  daring  an  attack,  and  the 
two  ships  and  schooner  soon  capitulated  to  the  Americans. 
The  sudden  appearance  of  a fleet  of  the  enemy’s  craft  com- 
pelled Captain  Barry  to  burn  the  ships,  but  not  until  he 
had  secured  their  valuable  cargoes.  To  General  Washing- 
ton he  wrote  that  he  was  determined  to  hold  on  to  the 
schooner  at  all  hazards. 

The  cool  and  happy  courage  that  inspired  the  small  and 
heroic  band  is  not  alone  sufflcient  to  account  for  Barrv’s  won- 
derful success,  but  it  must  be  ascribed  to  a combination  of 
daring  bravery  and  consummate  skill,  by  which  the 
diminutive  power  under  his  command  was  directed  with 
unerring  rapidity  and  irresistible  force.  The  trophies  of  his 
valor,  productive  of  no  personal  benefit  to  himself,  nor  cal- 
culated for  mere  display,  consisted  of  articles  eminently  ser- 
viceable to  the  American  army,  which  was  then  in  great 
want  of  them. 

The  following  highly  complimentary  public  testimonial 


6^0 


VOMMOBORE  JOHN  BARRT. 


of  thanks  was  received  by  Captain  Barry  from  the  Comman-' 
der-in-chief  himself : 


“Head  Quarteks,  12  March,  1778. 

“ To  Captain  John  Barry  : 

“Sir, — I have  received  yonr  favor  of  the  ninth  inst., 
and  congratulate  you  on  the  success  which  has  crowned  your 
gallantry  and  address  in  the  late  attack  upon  the  enemy’s 
ships.  Although  circumstances  have  prevented  you  from 
reaping  the  full  benefits  of  your  conquest,  yet  there  is 
ample  consolation  in  the  degree  of  glory  which  you  have 
acquired.  You  will  be  pleased  to  accept  of  my  thanks  for 
the  good  things  which  you  were  so  polite  as  to  send  me, 
with  my  own  wishes  that  a suitable  recompense  may  always 
attend  your  bravery. 

“I  am,  sir,  etc., 

“Go.  Washington.’* 


CHAPTER  n. 

STILL  WAEBINO  ON  THE  OCEAN. 

Barry  receives  command  of  the  Raleigh’^ — A contest  with 
two  British  ships— Takes  command  of  the  frigate  '■'•Al- 
liance^'— Another  sharp  contest — The  Commodorehadly 
wounded — Encounter  with  a British  squadron — Barry' s 
memorable  reply ^ when  hailed  by  the  squadron. 

In  September,  1778,  Captain  Barry  received  the  com- 
mand of  the  Raleigh.,  of  thirty-two  guns,  and  on  the  25th 
of  that  month  he  put  to  sea  from  Boston,  having  a brig  and 
sloop  under  convoy.  It  was  not  long  before  his  courage 
and  skill  were  brought  into  active  exercise.  The  wind 
being  fresh  at  N.  W.,  the  Raleigh  ran  off  at  N.  E.  About 
noon  two  strange  sails  were  discovered  to  leeward,  about 
fifteen  miles  distant.  The  strangers  giving  chase.  Captain 
Barry  ordered  the  convoy  to  haul  nearer  to  the  wind,  and 
to  crowd  all  sail.  Afterwards  the  strange  ships  were  dis- 
covered to  belong  to  the  enemy,  being  the  Experiment 
fifty,  Captain  Wallace,  and  the  Unicorn.,  rating  twenty- 
two  and  mounting  twenty-eight  guns. 

After  dark,  the  Raleigh  lost  sight  of  them,  the  wind 
being  light  and  variable.  Having  tacked  towards  the  land, 
the  Raleigh  cleared  for  action,  and  kept  the  crew  at  qaur- 
ters  all  night.  In  the  morning,  the  weather  being  hazy,  the 
enemy’s  ships  were  not  in  sight,  and  the  Raleigh  soon 
made  the  land  ahead,  quite  near.  At  noon  it  became  clear, 
and  the  enemy  were  discovered  in  the  southern  board  and  to 
windward,  crowding  sail  in  pursuit.  Again  the  weather  be- 
came hazy,  the  pursuers  were  no  longer  visible,  and  the 
Raleigh  hauled  off  to  the  eastward.  At  daylight  Captain 
Barry  took  in  all  sail,  in  order  to  conceal  the  position  of 

621 


622 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY 


his  ship,  which  now  drifted  under  bare  poles.  Nothing  be- 
ing visible  at  6 a.  m.,  the  Raleigh  crowded  sail  again  and 
ran  S.  E.  by  E.,  but  at  half-past  nine  the  enemy  were  again 
discovered  astern  in  purs  ait.  The  Raleigh  now  hauled 
close  upon  a- wind,  heading  at  W.,  with  the  larboard  tacks 
aboard.  The  enemy  came  to  wind,  all  three  vessels  carry- 
ing hard,  with  a staggering  breeze.  Barry's  shijD  outsailed 
her  piirsuers,  making  eleven  knots  two  fathoms  on  a 
dragged  bow  line. 

The  wind  moderated  at  noon,  when  the  Unicorn  over- 
hauled the  Raleigh  quite  fast,  even  the  Experiment  also 
holding  way  with  her.  At  4 p.  m.  the  Raleigh  tacked 
to  the  westward,  in  order  to  discover  the  Unicorn's  force, 
making  in  this  movement  several  small  islands  whose  names 
were  unknown.  To  his  great  grief  and  mortification.  Cap- 
tain Barry  found  that  not  one  of  his  crew  was  acquainted 
with  the  coast,  so  that  before  he  could  reach  a place  of  se- 
curity, about  5 p.  M.,  the  Unicorn  nearly  closed.  The 
however,  edged  away  and  crossed  her  fore  foot,  brail- 
ing  her  mizzen  and  taking  in  her  stay- sails.  The  Unicorn 
showed  a battery  of  fourteen  guns  of  a side,  including  both 
decks,  and  now  displayed  St.  George’s  Ensign.  The  two 
ships  exchanged  broadsides,  as  they  crossed  each  others 
the  Unicorn  came  up  under  the  quarter  of  the  Raleigh^ 
when  a warm,  steady,  and  general  action  ensued,  which 
lasted  seven  hours.  At  the  second  fire,  the  Raleigh,  having 
been  obliged  to  crowd  on  all  her  sails  in  order  to  keep  clear  of 
the  larger  ship,  Experiment,  unfortunately  lost  her  fore- 
topmast, mizzen  top-gallantmast,  jib  and  forestay,  which 
rendered  four  of  her  guns  useless,  and  greatly  encumbered 
her  with  the  wreck,  giving  the  enemy  great  advantage  in 
maneuvering  throughout  the  engagement. 

Finding  the  broadside  of  the  Raleigh  getting  too  hqt, 
the  enemy  soon  shot  ahead,  and  for  a short  time,  while  the 
crew  of  the  Raleigh  were  clearing  the  wreck,  she  engaged  to 
windward  and  at  a distance.  Noc  long  afterwards,  however, 
the  English  vessel  edged  away  and  attempted  to  rake  her 
antagonist,  when  Captain  Barry  bore  up,  and,  bringing  the 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 


623 


ships  alongside  each  other,  endeavored  to  board;  but  this 
move  the  Unicorn^  favored  by  all  her  canvas  and  by  her 
superior  sailing  in  a light  wind,  readily  prevented.  By 
this  time  the  other  hostile  ship  had  got  so  near  as  to  render 
it  certain  she  would  very  soon  close,  and  finding  it  impos- 
sible to  escape,  Captain  Barry  called  a council  of  his  offi- 
cers. It  was  determined  to  make  an  effort  to  run  the 
brig  ashore,  the  land  being  within  a few  miles.  The 
American  vessel  accordingly  wore  round  and  stood  for  the 
islands  already  mentioned,  her  antagonist  sticking  to  her 
in  a most  gallant  manner,  a«id  both  ships  all  the  time  main- 
taining the  action  with  spirit.  About  midnight,  how- 
ever, the  enemy  hauled  off,  leaving  the  Raleigh  to  pursue 
her  course  towards  the  land. 

The  engagement  had  now  lasted  seven  hours,  both  vessels 
having  suffered  materially,  particularly  the  Raleigh.,  in 
her  spars,  rigging,  and  sails.  His  ship  being  soon  after  con- 
cealed by  the  darkness.  Captain  Barry  had  some  hopes  of 
getting  off  among  the  islands,  and  was  in  the  act  of  bending 
on  new  sails  for  that  purpose,  when  the  enemy’s  vessels 
again  came  in  sight,  closing  fast.  The  Raleigh  immedi- 
ately opened  a heavy  fire  from  the  stern  guns,  and  every 
human  effort  was  made  to  force  the  ship  towards  the  land. 
The  enemy,  however,  easily  closed  again,  and  opened  a 
heavy  fire,  which  was  returned  by  the  Raleigh  until  she 
grounded,  when  the  Experiment  immediately  hauled  off  to 
avoid  a similar  result. 

Gaining  a safe  distance,  both  the  enemy’s  vessels  con- 
tinued their  fire  from  positions  they  had  taken  on  the 
Raleigh's  quarter.  Captain  Barry,  finding  that  the  island, 
which  IS  called  Wooden  Ball,  and  lies  about  twenty  miles 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Penobscot,  was  rocky  and  might  be 
defended,  determined  to  land  and  burn  the  ship,  the  enemy 
having  ceased  firing  and  anchored  at  the  distance  of  a mile. 
The  greater  portion  of  the  men  had  got  on  shore,  and  a 
boat’s  crew  went  to  take  ashore  the  remainder,  together 
with  the  midshipman  who  was  left  in  the  ship  to  set  fire  to 
the  combustibles. 


624 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRT. 


After  waiting  in  vain  till  daylight,  it  was  discovered 
that  the  midshipman  had  treacherously  extinguished  the 
lights,  and  surrendered  the  ship  to  the  enemy.  The  Uni- 
corn was  much  cut  up  after  the  affair,  and  had  ten  men 
killed,  besides  many  wounded.  Captain  Barry  saved  eighty 
■of  his  men,  and  had  twenty-five  killed  and  wounded.  He 
gained  great  credit  for  his  courage  and  perseverance  on  this 
occasion.  General  Washington,  in  his  account  of  the 
affair  to  Congress,  writes  that  Captain  Barry  made  a “long 
and  very  gallant  resistance.”  His  conduct,  however,  was 
submitted  to  a court-martial,  and  his  reputation  only 
gained  brighter  luster  by  the  investigation.  The  command 
of  another  ship  was  given  to  him  at  the  first  opportunity. 

For  some  time  after  his  courageous  defense  of  the  Ra- 
leigh^ Captain  Barry  was  actively  engaged  in  the  public  ser- 
vice in  several  voyages  to  the  West  Indies.  He  received 
the  title  of  Commodore,  being  the  first  American  officer 
upon  whom  it  was  conferred.  In  1781,  the  frigate  Alliance^ 
a great  favorite  in  the  service,  was  placed  under  his  com- 
mand. In  February  of  that  year  he  sailed  from  Boston  for 
France,  having  on  board  Colonel  Laurens,  a brave  and  distin- 
guished young  officer,  who  was  charged  by  Congress  with  an 
important  embassy  to  the  French  Court.  Commodore  Barry 
was  so  careful  of  his  reputation  that  he  felt  great  regret 
and  hesitation  about  going  to  sea  with  so  inferior  a crew  as 
then  manned  the  Alliance.  It  is  probable,  however,  they 
soon  became  efficient  seamen  under  his  strict  and  excellent 
discipline. 

Having  captured  on  the  outward  passage  a small  priva- 
teer called  the  Alert.,  the  Alliance  landed  Colonel  Laurens  at 
L’  Oriente,  and  on  the  30th  of  March  sailed  on  a cruise,  in 
company  with  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette.,  forty,  then 
bound  for  America  with  provisions.  On  the  2d  of  April 
they  fell  in  with  and  captured,  with  little  resistance,  two 
Guernsay  privateers,  the  Mars,  a heavy  vessel  of  twenty- 
six  guns  and  one  hundred  and  twelve  men,  and  the  Mi- 
nerra,  with  an  armament  of  ten  guns  and  fifty-five  men. 

Having  parted  company  with  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette, 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 


625 


the  Alliance  continued  her  cruise  until  the  23th  of 
May,  when  she  descried  two  sails  making  directly  for 
her . The  strange  vessels  came  up  after  dark,  and  hauled 
up  on  the  same  course  with  the  Alliance.,  with  the  manifest 
view  of  postponing  the  engagement  to  the  following  day, 
A dead  calm  prevailed  at  the  succeeding  daylight,  and 
when  the  mist  disappeared  the  two  vessels  were  seen  not 
far  off,  with  British  colors  flying.  They  proved  to  be  the 
sloop-of-war  Captain  Edwards,  rating  sixteen  guns 

and  carrying  a crew  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  men,  and 
her  consort,  the  brig  Trepassy,  Captain  Smith,  rating  four- 
teen guns  and  carrying  a crew  of  eighty  men. 

The  sea  was  perfectly  calm,  which  left  the  Alliance 
floating  in  the  water  like  a log,  without  steerage  way,  while 
the  enemy  were  enabled  by  means  of  sweeps  to  command 
their  movements  and  select  their  own  positions.  The  hos- 
tile ships  could  not  get  within  hailing  distance  before  noon, 
when  Commodore  Barry  ordered  them  to  haul  down  the 
English  colors.  This  was  of  course  refused,  and  the  bat- 
tle commenced.  For  more  than  an  hour  the  Alliance  fought 
at  great  disadvantage,  the  enemy  being  on  her  quarters, 
where  only  a few  of  the  aftermost  guns  could  bear  on  them. 
This  advantage,  increased  by  the  calm,  at  one  time  seemed 
to  promise  a certain  victory  to  the  enemy,  for  they  had  the 
tight  principally  to  themselves.  In  this  unfavorable  posi- 
tion of  things,  Commodore  Barry  received  a grapeshot 
through  the  left  shoulder,  and  after  remaining  on  deck  for 
some  time,  was  obliged  by  loss  of  blood  to  be  carried  below. 
This  misfortune  greatly  increased  the  disheartening  posi- 
tion of  the  Americans,  who  were  suffering  under  the  close 
tire  of  two  spirited  and  persevering  antagonists. 

At  this  crisis  the  ensign  of  the  Alliance  was  shot  away, 
in  the  interval  of  loading  the  guns,  and  at  the  same  time 
her  fire  slackened,  when  the  enemy,  supposing  she  had 
struck  her  colors,  and  reckoning  the  day  already  theirs, 
permitted  their  crews  to  leave  their  guns  and  give  three 
cheers  for  victory.  At  this  gloomy  juncture,  one  of  his 
lieutenants  went  to  Commodore  Barry  to  represent  the  great 


626 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY 


injury  the  ship  had  sustained  and  the  difficulties  with 
which  she  had  to  contend,  and  asked  whether  they  should 
surrender.  “No,”  replied  the  Commodore,  “if  the  ship 
can’t  be  fought  without  me,  I will  be  carried  on  deck.” 
This  thrilling  answer  was  at  once  reported  to  the  crew,  and 
inspired  them  with  renewed  ardor  and  perseverance.  Con- 
' currently  with  this,  a light  breeze  struck  the  sails  of  the 
Alliance^  and  she  came  fairly  under  steerage  way.  A sin- 
gle broadside  poured  into  the  enemy  changed  the  whole 
state  of  the  combat,  and  the  royalists  had  to  return  to  their 
guns,  discovering  that  the  victory  yet  remained  to  be  won. 
After  a brave  and  noble  resistance,  which  had  lasted  nearly 
all  day,  and  before  the  dressing  of  the  Commodore’s 
wounds  would  permit  him  to  reach  the  deck,  the  British 
vessels  struck  their  flags.  They  were  both  badly  injured, 
and  sustained  a joint  loss  of  eleven  men  killed  and  thirty 
wounded.  The  Alliance  also  was  much  damaged  in  her 
rigging  and  hull,  owing  principally  to  the  fire  of  the  enemy 
across  her  quarter  and  stern ; her  loss  was  eleven  killed 
and  twenty-two  wounded.  Commodore  Barry  made  a car- 
tel of  the  Trepassy,  and  sent  her  into  an  English  port  with 
the  prisoners,  but  the  Atalanta  was  retaken  while  about  to 
enter  Boston  Harbor,  by  a squadron  of  the  enemy  cruising 
off  that  j)lace. 

In  the  ensuing  fall,  Commodore  Barry,  in  compliance 
wuth  orders  received,  refitted  the  Alliance  for  the  purpose 
of  carrying  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette  and  Count  Noailles 
to  France  on  important  public  business.  Having  performed 
that  duty,  the  Commodore  sailed  for  Havana,  and  contin- 
ued for  some  time  cruising  aud  rendering  important  service 
to  the  American  cause  on  the  West  India  station.  The  Al- 
liance was  kept  constantly  in  active  service,  being  a great 
favorite  on  account  of  her  superior  sailing  qualities. 

Amongst  other  services  performed,  ilie  Alliance  was  sent 
to  Havana  for  specie.  In  March,  1782,  she  sailed  from  the 
port  of  Havana,  in  company  with  the  Luzerne^  Captain 
Green,  loaded  with  a large  amount  of  specie,  and  with  sup- 
plies. Shortly  after  leaving  port,  the  Alliance  and  Lu- 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 


627 


zerne  encountered  a British  squadron,  which  gave  occasion 
for  a biilliant  trial  of  the  Commodore’s  naval  skill  and 
prowess.  The  largest  of  the  enemy’s  vessels  was  equal  to 
the  Luzerne  in  swiftness,  whilst  the  English  sloop  sur- 
passed her.  The  conquest  promised  to  prove  an  easy  one 
for  the  enemy.  In  order  to  facilitate  their  escape,  the  Lu- 
zerne was  lightened  by  throwing  her  guns  overboard,  and 
the  specie  was  transferred  to  the  Alliance. 

In  the  chase,  according  to  a tradition  in  the  service,  the 
Alliance  ran  fifteen  knots  by  the  log,  with  the  wind  ahead. 
While  thus  endeavoring  to  save  his  precious  freight  from 
falling  into  the  enemy’s  hands,  Commodore  Barry  discov- 
ered a sail  on  the  Alliance's  weather  bow,  which  turned 
out  to  be  a French  two-decker  of  fifty  guns.  Exchanging 
signals  with  the  French  vessel,  and  supposing  he  would  be 
supported  by  her,  Commodore  Barry  wore  round  and  took 
his  station  on  the  weather  quarter  of  the  Luzerne.  As  the 
British  sloop,  the  Sibyl,  rating  twenty  and  mounting  thirty 
guns,  endeavored  to  close  her,  he  bore  down  and  engaged 
the  Sibyl,  before  the  other  ship  of  the  enemy  could  come  to 
her  relief.  The  French  vessel,  however,  did  not  enter  the 
engagement,  but  kept  her  wind,  and  the  Alliance  had  to 
sustain  the  whole  action. 

The  enemy’s  guns  had  been  actively  engaged  from  the 
commencement,  but  the  guns  of  the  Alliance  were  rendered 
more  effectual,  by  having  been  reserved  until  she  was 
within  a very  short  distance  of  her  adversary.  The  action 
lasted  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  when  the  Sibyl  re- 
tired and  made  signals  of  distress  to  her  consort.  The  Al- 
liance now  stood  for  the  French  vessel,  and  having  spoken 
her,  it  was  determined  to  give  chase  to  the  enemy  and  en- 
deavor to  bring  the  two  British  vessels  to  action  again.  It 
was  soon  perceived,  however,  that  the  French  ship  was  too 
heavy  a sailer  to  attempt  to  overtake  the  enemy,  and  the 
pursuit  was  abandoned.  The  coolness  and  intrepidity,  no 
less  than  the  skill  and  fertility  in  expedient,  which  Com- 
modore Barry  displayed  on  this  occasion,  are  described  in 
naval  annals  as  truly  wonderful.  Every  quality  of  the 


C28 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY 


great  naval  commander  was  brought  out  with  extraordinary 
brilliancy. 

The  loss  of  the  Alliance  was  three  killed  and  eleven 
wounded,  while  that  of  the  Sibyl  is  said  to  have  been 
thirty -seven  killed  and  fifty  wounded.  When  hailed  by  the 
British  squadron  and  asked  the  usual  questions  as  to  the 
ship,  the  captain,  etc.,  the  hero  gave  this  spirited  and  char- 
acteristic reply:  “The  United  States  ship  Alliance^  saucy 
Jack  Barry,  half  Irishman,  half  Yankee — who  are  you?” 
It  is  related  in  the  “Annals  of  Philadelphia,”  by  Watson, 
that  “the  widow  of  Commodore  Barry,  remembering  with 
what  esteem  her  husband  regarded  this  ship,  had  a tea- 
caddy  made  out  of  her  wood,  as  a memento.” 


CHAPTER  m. 


FAITHFUL  TO  THE  END. 

Difficulties  in  creating  our  first  navy — Achievements  of 
the  navy — Barry  continues  at  the  head  of  the  service — 
The  frigate  United  States  chastising  the  French-^ 
Barry's  devotion  to  his  country — His  death — Personal 
appearance  and  character. 

The  difficulties  which  embarrassed  the  formation  of  a 
navy,  di'.ring  the  Revlutionary  War,  were  very  great.  It 
would  occupy  too  much  space  in  this  brief  sketch  to  detail 
them.  The  very  nature  of  the  war,  which  was  almost  en- 
tirely confined  to  land,  in  consequence  of  the  invasion  of 
the  country  by  the  British  land  forces,  was  unfavorable  to 
naval  preparation.  The  paramount  necessity  and  duty,  on 
the  part  of  Congress,  to  provide  the  means  of  resistance  to 
the  British  armies,  left  little  time  or  means  for  maritime 
defence.  Besides,  the  enemy  were  in  possession  of  the 
rivers  and  ports,  especially  of  the  most  important  of  all  the 
American  ports  for  naval  operations,  that  of  Xew  York. 
So  that  only  six  of  the  thirteen  vessels  laid  down  in  the  ar- 
rangement of  October,  1775,  could  ever  get  to  sea.  The  re- 
mainder either  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy’s  land 
forces,  or  were  destroyed  by  the  Americans  to  prevent  that 
result. 

The  absence  of  system  and  discipline,  dissensions  about 
rank,  the  dangerous  and  injudicious  but  perhaps  necessary 
expedient  of  raising  sailors  from  landsmen,  and  even  from 
the  prisoners  taken  in  the  war,  were  great  drawbacks  upon 
this  branch  of  the  public  service.  The  Alliance  was  the 
only  frigate-built  vessel  that  went  to  sea,  after  the  first  or 
second  year  of  the  war,  with  a full  crew.  These  irregulari- 

629^ 


630 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 


ties  would  have  sacrificed  that  favorite  ship  of  the  Revolu 
tion  and  her  precious  freight  in  the  West  Indies,  but  for 
the  intrepidity  and  skill  of  Commodore  Barry.  Notwith 
standing  these  difficulties,  the  infant  navy  gained  renown 
in  a contest  with  the  greatest  maritime  power  in  the  world, 
and  several  naval  heroes  won  immortality.  The  famous 
historian  of  the  navy  mentions  Jones,  Barry,  Barny, 
Biddle,  Manly,  Nicholson,  Wickes,  Rathburne,  Conyngham, 
and  Hecker  as  “the  naval  names  that  have  descended  to 
us  from  this  war  with  the  greatest  reputation.” 

After  the  termination  of  the  Revolution,  Commodore  Barry 
still  remained  in  the  service,  and  at  its  head,  and  took  an 
active  part  in  all  measures  relating  to  the  navy.  During 
the  misunderstanding  with  the  FrenchGovernment,  which  oc- 
casioned a partial  naval  war,  he  rendered  eminent  services 
in  protecting  the  American  flag  and  commerce  from  the  dep- 
redations of  the  French  privateers  which  infested  the  seas. 

His  experience  and  skill  as  a commander  rendered  his  as- 
sistance and  counsel  of  invaluable  advantage  to  the  country 
in  laying  the  foundations  of  the  present  permanent  navy. 
He  succeeded  in  getting  the  Government  to  adopt  a superior 
model  for  ships,  and  it  is  considered  that  the  new-  arrange- 
ments then  introduced  into  the  service  have  often  since 
supplied  the  want  of  numerical  strength.  Under  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  elder  Adams  he  superintended  at  Phil- 
aaelphia  the  building  of  the  fine  frigate  United  States, 
forty-four,  of  which  he  retained  the  command  until  she 
was  laid  up  in  ordinary,  under  Jefferson’s  administration 

The  law  of  March  27th,  1794,  provided  for  six  frigates,  and 
Commodore  Barry’s  name  was  placed  at  the  head  of  the 
list  of  commanders.  The  United  States  was  launched 
at  Philadelphia  on  the  10th  day  of  July,  1794,  and  was 
the  first  vessel  that  got  afloat  under  the  organization  of  1794. 
Early  in  July  the  next  year  the  ship  was  ready  for  sea,  and 
Commodore  Barry  proceeded  to  cruise  in  her  to  the  east- 
ward. He  was  remarkably  fond  of  aiding  young  officers  in 
their  profession,  a trait  of  character  strongly  indicative  of 
true  greatness  of  soul.  He  carried  out  with  him,  in  his  first 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRY. 


631 


cruise  in  the  United  States,  many  young  gentlemen,  who 
afterwards  did  honor  to  themselves,  their  preceptor,  and 
ineir  country.  Among  these  we  may  mention  such 
names  as  Ross,  Murray,  James  Barron,  and  Charles  Stewart, 
who  were  the  lieutenants  of  the  United  States,  and  Jlecatur, 
Somers,  Caldwell,  Jones,  and  Crane,  \,?ho  were  her  midship- 
men. His  “boys,”  as  they  were  called,  were  made  of  noble 
stuff,  and  their  names  are  amongst  the  brightest  ornaments 
on  the  pages  of  our  naval  history. 

The  Government  now  resolved  to  send  a stronger  force  to 
the  West  Indies.  Com  modore  Barry  hoisted  a broad  pennant 
on  board  the  United  States,  proceeded  to  the  neighborhood 
of  Cape  Cod,  and  then  sailed  directly  for  the  W est  Indies 
In  addition  to  the  flag-ship,  the  squadron  consisted  of  the 
Delaware,  Captain  Decatur,  and  the  Herald,  Captain  Sever. 
In  this  cruise  they  captured  the  privateers  Sans  Pareil^ 
sixteen,  and  Jaloux,  fourteen,  and  sent  them  in  in  the  faT. 
of  the  year. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1798,  the  West  India  force 
was  divided  into  four  squadrons,  the  principal  of  which 
was  confided  to  Commodore  Barry.  In  addition  to  the 
United  States,  which  was  the  flag-ship,  the  squadron  con- 
sisted of  the  Constitution,  Captain  Nicholson;  George 
Washington,  Captain  Fletcher ; Merrimack,  Captain 
Brown ; Portsmouth,  Captain  McNeill ; Herald,  Master 
Com.  Russell ; Pickering,  Lieut.  Com.  Preble ; Eagle, 
Lieut.  Com.  Campbell ; Scammel,  Lieut.  Com.  Adams ; and 
Diligence,  Lieut.  Com.  Brown.  These  vessels  were  kept 
constantly  and  actively  cruising  during  the  year  1799,  pass- 
ing from  point  to  point,  and  making  a general  rendezvous 
at  Prince  Rupert’s  Bay. 

Among  numerous  other  captures  made  by  the  squadron, 
Commodore  Barry,  Avith  the  United  States,  captured  the 
French  privateers  H Amour  de  la  Patrie  and  Le  Tartuffe. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  year  1799,  the  French  Government 
had  become  persuaded,  by  the  active  and  determined  meas- 
ures of  the  United  States  Government,  to  consent  to  enter 
into  negotiations,  and  assurances  were  given  that  new  min- 


632 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRT. 


isters  would  now  be  received  with  more  respect  than  those 
previously  sent,  who  had  encountered  only  insult  and 
neglect.  On  the  3d  of  November,  Commodore  Barry  sailed 
from  Newport,  R.  I.,  with  the  United  States , having  on 
board  the  American  envoys  to  the  French  Government, 
whom  he  conveyed  to  their  destination.  He  then  returned 
to  the  West  India  Station,  where  he  cruised  during  the 
year  1800. 

Commodore  Barry  continued  at  the  head  of  the  navy  till 
the  day  of  liis  death.  He  was  always  ready  for  any  duty, 
and  rendered  important  services  to  the  country,  no  less  by 
his  exertions  when  afloat — notwithstanding  an  asthmatic 
affection  with  wjbich  he  was  suffering  for  many  years  — 
than  by  his  counsel  when  ashore,  in  shaping  the  naval 
policy  of  the  Goveimment.  No  man  could  be  more  devoted 
to  his  adopted  country  than  Commodore  Barry,  as  a long 
life  of  public  services  will  testify ; yet  he  never  ceased  to 
love  the  beautiful  but  oppressed  isle  of  his  birth,  which 
he  visted  after  the  Peace  of  Paris.  It  is  related  that  the 
people  of  his  native  parish  of  Tacumshane  remembered 
his  visit  for  years  after  with  unabated  gratitude.  After 
a useful  and  brilliant  career  of  glory,  this  good  and 
brave  man  was  carried  off  by  his  old  complaint,  the 
asthma.  He  died  at  Philadelphia  on  the  13th  of  Septem- 
ber, 1803,  and  was  buried  in  the  cemetary  of  old  St.  Mary’s 
Church. 

Throughout  his  whole  life  Commodore  Barry  was  a good, 
sincere,  practical  Catholic.  As  he  died  without  children, 
he  left  the  Catholic  orphan  asylum  of  Philadelphia  his 
chief  legatee. 

Many  noble  and  generous  qualities  combined  to  render 
his  heroic  character  one  of  singular  symmetry  and  beauty. 
By  all  he  was  loved  and  honored  ; and  to-day  his  memory 
is  held  in  veneration  from  the  Great  Lakes  to  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico. 

Barry  was  above  the  ordinary  stature.  His  person  was 
graceful  and  commanding;  and  his  whole  deportment  was 
marked  by  dignity,  untinged  with  ostentation.  He  had  a 


COMMODORE  JOHN  BARRT. 


633 


strongly  marked  countenance,  which  expressed  the  qualities 
of  his  mind  and  the  virtues  of  his  heart. 

His  private  life  was  as  amiable  as  his  public  career  was 
brilliant.  In  his  domestic  relations  he  was  frank,  open, 
and  affectionate ; and  his  kind  courtesy  to  all  made  him  a 
host  of  friends.  Deeply  impressed,  with  religion,  he  ex- 
acted an  observance  of  his  holy  duties  and  ceremonies  on 
board  of  his  ship,  as  well  as  in  the  retirement  of  private 
life.  His  lofty  feelings  of  honor  secured  the  confidence  of 
the  most  illustrious  men  of  the  nation,  and  gave  the  fa- 
mous commander  an  extensive  influence  in  the  various 
spheres  iu  which  his  active  life  required  him  to  move.  He 
possessed  in  an  eminent  degree  the  regard  and  admiration 
of  Washington.  His  public  services  were  far  from  being 
limited  to  any  customary  rule  of  professional  duty ; and 
without  regard  to  labor,  danger,  or  expense,  his  devotion 
to  his  country  kept  him  constantly  engaged  in  disinter- 
ested acts  of  public  utility. 

*■  There  are  gallant  hearts  whose  glory 
Columbia  loves  to  name, 

Whose  deeds  shall  live  in  story 
And  everlasting  fame. 

But  never  yet  one  braver. 

Our  starry  banner  bore. 

Than  saucy  old  Jack  Barry, 

The  Irish  Commodora” 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LLD., 

FIRST  ARCHBISHOP  OF  BALTIMORE.' 


CHAPTER  I. 

FIRST  TEARS  OF  OUR  FIRST  ARCHBISHOP, 

Bifth — Parents — Ancestors  — Education  and  the  Penat 
Laws  — Bohemia  Manor  — Younrj  Carroll  sent  to 
Europe — Enters  the  Society  of  Jesus — Is  ordained — 
Suppression  of  the  Society — Sketch  in  a note — Father 
Carroll  goes  to  England. 

The  name  of  Archbishop  Carroll  sparkles  like  a gem 
of  purest  ray  on  the  most  brilliant  pages  of  American  biog- 
raphy, He  was  identified  with  the  stirring  events  of  the 
Revolution,  and  was  the  friend  of  Washington,  Franklin, 
and  other  illustrious  men  whose  services  gave  the  rich  in- 
heritance of  freedom  to  our  country,  and  the  brightest  ex- 
amples of  patriotism  to  the  world.  Selected  by  God  to  be 
the  first  Bishop  of  His  Holy  Church  in  this  Republic,  he 
proved  how  good  and  happy  was  the  choice  by  the  wisdom 
of  his  acts,  the  purity  of  his  life,  and  the  unsullied  splen- 
dor of  his  reputation. 

John  Carroll,  the  third  son  of  Daniel  Carroll  and  Eleanor 
Darnall,  was  born  at  Upper  Marlboro,  Maryland, on  January 
8th,  1735.  His  father  was  a native  of  Ireland,  and  be- 
longed to  a Catholic  family  that  nobly  preferred  the 


* Chief  authorities  used : Brent,  *•  Biography  of  Archbishop  Carroll  Campbell,  “ Memoirs  of 
the  Life  and  Times  of  the  Most  Hev.  John  Carroll;  ” Clarke,  “ Memoir  of  Archbishop  Carroii;  ” 
Clarke,  ‘ Lives  of  the  Deceased  Bishops  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States ; ’’  A 
Populav  History  o'  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States  ; ” Loesing,  “ Lives  of  Celebrated 
Americans." 


635 


630 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


loss  of  their  property  to  the  abandonment  of  their  Faith  Iq 
company  with  his  parents  he  came  to  Maryland  while  yet 
a youth. 

It  happened  thus.  The  Archbishop’s  grandfather  was 
secretary  to  Lord  Powis,  a leading  minister  in  the  cabinet 
of  the  unfortunate  James  II.  It  is  related  that  Mr.  Carroll 
remarked  one  day  to  his  lordship  that  he  was  happy  to 
find  that  public  affairs  and  his  Majesty’s  service  were  pro- 
gressing so  prosperously. 

“You  are  quite  wrong,”  replied  Lord  Powis;  “affairs 
are  going  on  very  badly;  the  King  is  very  ill  advised.”  And 
after  pausing  a few  moments,  he  thus  addressed  his  secre- 
tary: “Young  man,  I have  a regard  for  you,  and  would 
be  glad  to  do  you  a service.  Take  my  advice — great 
changes  are  at  hand — go  out  to  Maryland.  I will  speak  to 
Lord  Baltimore  in  your  favor.” 

Mr.  Carroll  followed  the  advice  of  his  noble  friend.  He 
obtained  government  employment  in  Maryland,  with  lib- 
eral grants  of  land.  He  also  engaged  in  commercial  pur- 
suits at  Upper  Marlboro,  and  died  in  1765,  leaving  his  fam- 
ily quite  independent. 

Eleanor  Darnall,  the  mother  of  the  Archbishop,  was  a na- 
tive of  Maryland,  and  daughter  of  a wealthy  Catholic  gen- 
tleman. She  was  educated  with  much  care  in  a select 
school  at  Paris,  and  was  greatly  admired  for  her  piety, 
amiability,  mental  culture,  and  varied  accomplishments. 
The  graces  and  virtues  of  the  mother  did  not  fail  to  impress 
the  character  of  her  son. 

The  penal  laws  were  then  in  full  force.  Catholics  were  pr>j- 
hibted  from  teaching,  and  Catholic  youth  were  deprived  not 
only  of  that  wuse  education  which  unites  religious  with  literary 
and  scientific  knowledge,  but  were  also  exposed  to  the  danger 
and  mortification  of  seeking  learning  in  schools  where  their 
faith  was  misrepresented,  the  very  name  of  their  religion 
scorned,  and  they  themselves  treated  as  a degraded  portion 
of  the  community. 

The  zeal,  however,  of  the  Maryland  Jesuits  had  m i laged 
to  counteract,  to  some  small  extent,  the  brutal  intolerance 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL  D.D.,  LL.D. 


637 


of  the  English  code,  by  establishing  a boarding-s^rhool  in  a 
secluded  spot  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Marylandj  upon  an 
estate  belonging  to  themselves.  It  was  known  as  Bohemia 
Manor.  Here  the  good  Fathers  conducted  an  institution 
which  was  intended  to  prepare  Catholic  youth  for  the  col- 
leges of  Europe.  It  was  about  the  year  1747  that  John 
Carroll  was  placed  at  Bohemia.  One  of  his  companions  was 
his  cousin,  Charles  Carroll  of  CarroUton.  Here  the  young 
Carrolls  spent  a year  in  assiduous  study. 

John  Carroll,  in  company  with  his  cousin  Charles,  was 
sent  to  the  Jesuit  College  at  St.  Omers,  in  French  Flan- 
ders. During  the  six  years  that  he  passed  in  this  insti- 
tution he  was  distinguished  for  his  piety,  good  example, 
close  application  to  study,  ready  and  brilliant  talents,  and 
for  his  gentle  and  amiable  deportment. 

The  happy  influences  of  the  home  of  his  childhood,  the 
exalted  examples  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers,  and  the  pure  and 
peaceful  aspirations  of  his  own  soul,  led  him  at  an  early 
date  to  dedicate  his  life  to  God.  It  was  this  inspiring 
thought  which  cast  a glow  of  holiness  around  young  John 
Carroll  during  these  years  of  hard,  earnest  study. 

In  1753  he  entered  the  novitiate  of  the  Society  of  Jesus, 
and  two  years  later  he  was  removed  to  Liege,  to  make  his 
course  of  philosophy  and  theology.  He  exhibited  more 
than  his  usual  zeal  and  application  in  preparing  for  the 
sacred  ministry.  In  1759,  being  then  in  his  twenty-fifth 
year,  after  having  spent  eleven  years  in  storing  his  mind 
with  learning,  he  was  raised  to  the  holy  dignity  of  the 
priesthood. 

Following  the  suggestions  of  the  Gospel,  Father  Carroll 
cheerfully  gave  up  his  patrimony  and  all  his  worldly  pos- 
sessions to  his  brother  and  sisters  in  America,  and  took 
poverty  and  the  Cross  as  his  companions  on  the  way  of  life. 

After  serving  as  professor  at  St.  Omers  and  at  Liege, 
where  he  filled  the  chair  of  philosophy,  he  was  received  in 
1771  as  a professed  Father  in  the  Society  of  Jesus. 

Father  Carroll  was  fnfilling  the  duties  of  prefect  at 
Bruges,  when  the  great  Society  of  Jesus,  of  which  he  was 


638 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


SO  devoted  a member,  was  suppressed,  by  the  brief  T)om- 
inus  ac  Redemptor  of  Pope  Clement  XIV.,  dated  July 
21st,  1773.'  It  was  a severe  blow.  In  a letter  to  his 


• St.  Ignatins,  foniider  of  the  Society  of  Jeeus,  was  born  in  1491,  at  the  Castle  of  Loyola,  sitn- 
ated  in  the  north  of  Spain.  His  father  was  head  of  one  of  the  most  ancient  and  noble  families  of 
that  country.  Ignatius  grew  up  to  manhood,  a proud  and  aspiring  soldier.  He  possessed  mili- 
tary talents  of  a high  order,  and  became  known  as  an  accomplished  commander.  In  the  storm- 
ing of  Pampeluna,  which  he  defended  against  the  French,  the  young  Spanish  nobleman  received 
a severe  wound  that  confined  him  to  his  sick-room.  In  this  quiet  seclusion  he  read— accidentally 
read— the  lives  of  the  saints.  Grace  touched  his  heart.  New  light  flashed  on  his  mind.  The  in- 
vincible soldier  at  once  began  to  walk  the  way  of  the  saints.  This  was  just  at  the  period  when 
Luther,  the  apostate  monk  of  Germany,  finally  threw  off  the  mask,  and  bade  defiance  to  the 
Holy  See. 

Ignatius  of  Loyola  was  now  thirty  years  of  age.  His  knowledge  of  books  was  limited.  He 
could  barely  read  and  write.  But  with  unequaled  courage  be  entered  on  the  pursuit  of  learning 
and  virtue.  Taking  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts,  the  valiant  defender  of  Pampeluna  completed 
his  divinity  course,  was  ordained  priest,  gathered  around  him  ten  choice  and  learned  young 
men,  animated  by  his  own  master-spirit,  and  formed  them  into  a religious  order.  The  services 
of  this  company  of  youthful  Christian  heroes  he  placed  at  the  disposal  of  the  Pope.  Among 
them  were  Francis  Xavier,  James  Laynez,  and  Peter  Faber.  Pope  Paul  III.  approved  the  new 
Order,  in  IfilO,  under  the  title  of  The  Society  of  Jesus— the  name  given  it  by  St.  Ignatins  him- 
self. 

Such,  in  brief,  was  the  origin  of  that  wonderful  religious  institute,  which  from  its  first  years 
assumed  the  stature  of  a colossus,  which  has  peopled  heaven  with  saints,  and  filled  the  world 
with  the  renown  of  its  name  and  its  deeds. 

The  society  of  Jesus  at  once  became  the  vanguard  of  the  Church  in  Europe,  and  carried  the 
Faith  to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  " It  was  an  evil  day  fornew  bom  Protestantism,”  vrrites  Francis 
Parkman,  “ when  a French  artilleryman  struck  down  Ignatius  Loyola  in  the  breach  of  Pam- 
peluna.” “The  Jesuits,”  says  the  Abbe  Balmes,  “ were  a wall  of  brass  against  the  assaults  upon 
the  Catholic  Faith.” 

Sixteen  Jesuit  Fathers  bedewed  the  soil  of  the  United  States  with  their  martyr  blood.  Rale 
and  Du  Thet  were  murdered  for  the  Faith  in  Maine.  Jogues  shed  his  blood  in  New  York,  Se- 
gura and  his  eight  Jesuit  companions  laid  down  their  lives  in  Maryland.  The  aged  Mesnard 
famished  in  the  wilderness  of  Michigan.  Dupoisson  and  Sonel  suffered  death  on  the  Lower 
Mississippi.  In  short,  the  footsteps  of  the  Jesuit  can  be  traced  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific— 
from  the  Great  Lakes  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  eons  of  Loyola  stand  at  the  very  gate  of 
American  history.  We  cannot  enter  without  paying  them  our  respects. 

In  Europe,  the  Jesuit  Fathers  were  the  foremost  champions  of  the  Faith,  the  guardians  of 
Christian  education,  and  the  vigorous  defenders  of  the  rights  of  God  and  man.  They  came  into 
the  world  during  a great  convulsion  of  Christianity— an  age  of  social  storms  and  religious  revolu- 
tions. Catholicity  was  assailed.  The  authority  of  the  Holy  See  was  scoffed  at.  Men  fell  away 
from  the  Faith  of  their  fathers.  The  flag  of  heresy  waved  in  triumph  over  England,  Germany, 
and  other  lands.  But  the  sons  of  Loyola,  trained  to  virtue,  and  masters  of  all  knowledge,  arose 
in  their  might.  They  met  Heresy  more  than  half  way  ; and  Heresy  and  its  professors  have  never 
forgiven  them.  But  the  Catholic  Church  honored  them— ranked  them  among  her  noblest,  best, 
and  bravest  sons.  Nineteen  Popes  gave  their  warm  sanction  to  the  Society.  The  Council  of 
Trent  eulogized  their  constitutions  and  showed  so  much  deference  to  the  Order,  that  when 
Father  Laynez  was  taken  sick,  the  sittings  of  that  celebrated  body  were  suspended,  and  resumed 
when  he  was  able  to  be  present. 

Two  centuries  rolled  by.  and  Infidelity,  the  offspring  of  Heresy,  began  to  plot  the  destruction 
of  the  Church.  Irreligious  governments,  writers,  and  kings  leagued  together  for  this  unholy 
purpose.  The  Jesuits  had  the  distinguished  honor  of  being  the  earliest  victims  immolated  to  the 
hatred  of  these  powerful  wretches.  The  sentinels  of  Catholicity,  they  were  the  first  to  feel  the 
rage  of  its  enemies.  All  their  houses  in  Portugal  and  its  colonies  were  suppressed  in  1758  ; th« 
French  Parliament  suppressed  the  Society  in  1762  ; Spain  and  Naples  continued  the  work  of  sac 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


639 


brother  Daniel,  Father  Carroll  terms  the  Society  “the  first 
of  all  ecclesiastical  bodies,”  but  exclaims,  with  pious  and 
generous  heroism  : “God’s  holy  will  be  done,  and  may  His 
holy  name  be  blessed  forever  and  ever ! ” 

The  institutions  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers  were  given  up  by 
the  most  of  the  governments  of  Europe  to  plunder,  dese- 
cration, and  every  kind  of  vandalism.  Bruges  was  pillaged 
by  the  Austrian  Government.  Liege  was  deprived  of  its 
income,  and  its  inmates  were  expelled  from  the  home  which 
they  had  made  the  seat  of  learning  and  religion. 

The  English-speaking  Jesuits  of  Flanders  returned  to 
England,  whither  Father  Carroll  accompanied  them,  acted 
as  the  secretary  in  their  meetings,  and,  in  fact,  conducted 
the  important  correspondence  with  the  French  Government 
in  relation  to  the  property  of  the  suppressed  Society  in 
France. 

While  thus  engaged  in  England,  he  received  the  appoint- 
ment of  chaplain  to  Lord  Arundel,  and  took  up  his  resi- 
dence at  Wardour  Castle.  But  the  charms  of  this  splendid 
abode  did  not  withdraw  the  attention  of  the  devoted  priest 
from  the  grand  and  self-sacrificing  duties  of  his  sacred  call- 
ing, which  he  continued  zealously  to  perform,  whenever  an 
opportunity  for  doing  good  was  within  his  reach.  He  had, 
however,  for  some  time  cherished  the  intention  of  returning 
to  Maryland;  and  circumstances  of  an  exciting  and  impor- 
tant nature  now  hastened  its  execution. 


rllegioas  destraction  in  1767  ; and  Austria  soon  afterwards  followed  their  example!  Even  this 
slaughter  did  not  satisfy  the  wolves.  They  demanded  nothing  lees  than  the  utter  annihilation 
of  the  Society  of  Jesus.  The  situation  of  Europe  was  truly  fearful.  Clement  XIV.  was  pressed 
on  all  sides.  Threats  of  schism  from  the  so-called,  “ Catholic”  courts  were  heard,  in  case  he  did 
jtot  comply.  Thus  painfully  placed  between  two  evils  the  Holy  Father  accepted  what  he  con- 
sidered the  lesser— he  suppressed  the  Society  of  Jesus  by  the  brief  Dominus  ac  Bedemptor, 
dated  July  21st,  1773.  If  Infidelity  raised  a howl  of  trinmpb,  the  Catholic  world  soon  fell  its 
loss. 

With  the  permission  of  Pius  VU.,  the  Society  was  revived  in  Russia  in  1801,  and  six  years  later 
in  the  United  States.  In  August,  1814,  the  same  holy  pontiff  by  the  bull,  SoUicitudo,  oflScially 
restored  the  Society  of  Jesus  throughout  the  whole  Christian  world,  and  the  decree  was  hailed 
with  joy  by  all  true  friends  of  the  Church,  of  religion,  and  of  education.— See  (As 

Catholic  Church  in  the  United  StatM,"  pp.  357-657. 


CHAPTER  n. 

DUBING  THE  REVOLUTIOlf. 

J^gland  and  her  colonies — Father  Carroll  sails  for 
America— ‘'■Home^  sweet  home'’' — Changes — Resides 
with  his  mother  at  RocTc  Creek — Congress  invites  Father 
Carroll  to  go  to  Canada — The  journey — Result  of  the 
mission — Franklin  and  Father  Carroll — Homeward — 
Praying  for  the  cause  of  freedom — Controversy  with 
Wharton. 

The  warm  controversy  between  England  and  her  Ameri- 
can colonies  was  daily  hastening  to  a crisis.  Father  Car- 
roll,  though  surrounded  by  English  society  and  its  influ  - 
ences, at  once  espoused  the  cause  of  his  own  country  , and 
bidding  adieu  to  his  beloved  companions  of  the  late  Society 
of  Jesus,  and  to  his  noble  and  generous  friends  at  Wardour 
Castle,  he  sailed  from  England,  and  reached  his  native  land 
in  the  summer  of  1774. 

The  patriotic  priest  soon  enjoyed  the  happiness  of  again 
beholding  his  venerable  mother,  his  dear  sisters,  and  many 
of  the  friends  of  his  youthful  days — 

“The  shining  days  when  life  was  new, 

And  all  was  bright  as  morning  dew.” 

He  had  left  home  a bright  boy  of  fourteen,  and  re- 
turned a care-worn  man  of  forty,  destitute  of  fortune,  and 
disappointed  in  the  hopes  he  had  formed  for  the  triumphs 
of  religion,  to  be  achieved  by  the  illustrious  Society  to 
which  he  had  pledged  his  faith  forever.  Its  banner  had, 
indeed,  been  struck  down ; but  the  glorious  motto.  Ad 
majorem  Dei  gloriam,  was  incribed  upon  his  heart. 

He  had  left  Maryland  in  a state  of  vassalage  to  Great  Brit- 
ain ; but  he  returned  to  find  her  preparing  to  assert  her  iude- 
640 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL.  D.D..  LL.D. 


641 


pendence  of  tyranny  and  royal  authority.  In  the  days  of 
his  youth  Catholics  were  a proscribed  class,  ground  down 
by  penal  laws  in  the  very  land  which  they  had  colonized ; 
but  he  now  found  his  countrymen  engaged  in  discussing 
great  questions  of  civil  liberty,  and  he  looked  forward, 
with  a clear  vision,  to  emancipation  from  all  the  bondage 
of  bigotry,  as  a consequence  of  their  successful  battles  for 
freedom. 

The  future  Archbishop  took  up  his  residence  with  his 
mother  at  Rock  Creek.  Here,  at  first,  a room  in  the  family 
dwelling,  and  subsequently,  a wooden  chapel,  were  the 
scenes  of  the  holy  priest’s  ministerial  offices.  The  wooden 
chapel  has  since  been  superseded  by  a neat  brick  church, 
which  is  now  well  known  under  the  revered  name  of  “Car- 
roll’s  Chapel.” 

At  the  time  of  Father  Carroll’s  arrival  in  America  there 
was  not  one  Catholic  church  open  in  Maryland.  Under 
the  family  roof  only  could  the  holy  sacrifice  be  offered  up 
to  the  Almighty.  This  explains  why  the  old  Catholic  chap- 
els of  Maryland  contain  large  hearths  and  fireplaces  within 
them,  and  massive  brick  chimneys  projecting  through  the 
roofs.  In  the  once  beautifully-named  “Land  of  the  Sanc- 
tuary” there  were  then  only  nineteen  Catholic  clergymen — 
all  ex- Jesuits.' 

Father  Carroll  continued  to  reside  at  Rock  Creek.  He 
did  not  wish  to  leave  his  aged  mother,  to  whose  declining 
years  he  was  anxious  to  minister.  His  missionary  labors 
were  chiefiy  performed  in  the  neighboring  country.  He 
always  traveled  on  horseback,  making  long  and  frequent 
journeys  to  distant  Catholic  families  and  settlements,  rid- 
ing frequently  thirty  miles  or  more  to  sick  calls,  and  paying 
monthly  visits  to  a small  congregation  of  Catholics  in  Staf- 
ford County,  Virginia,  which  was  distant  fifty  or  sixty 
miles  from  his  home.’ 


* Col.  B.  U.  Campbell,  in  hie  “Life  and  Times  of  Archbishop  Carroll."  gives  the  names  and 
residences  of  these  Maryland  priests.  As  to  nationality,  it  appears  that  fifteen  of  them  were  na- 
tivec.  of  Maryland,  three  Englishmen,  and  one  a Belgian. 

• There  was  only  one  little  spot  in  Virginia  where  the  penai  code  did  not  mle.  Forming,  as  it 


G42 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


After  about  eighteen  months  thus  spent  in  the  active  du- 
ties of  the  holy  ministry,  the  call  of  his  country  sum- 
moned Father  Carroll  to  her  service.  Open  war  raged  be 
tween  England  and  the  thirteen  colonies.  The.  hopes  of  a 
settlement  had  vanished,  and  for  the  first  time  was  heard 
the  magic  sound  of  the  word  Independence.  To  gain  the 
active  assistance  of  the  Canadians,  or  at  least  to  secure 
their  neutrality,  was  a matter  of  the  highest  importance. 
Congress  appointed  three  commissioners  to  repair  to  Can- 
ada. They  were  Dr.  Benjamin  Franklin,  Samuel  Chase, 
and  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton,  and  by  a special  I’esolu- 
tion  the  last-named  gentleman  was  desired  “to  prevail  on 
Mr.  John  Carroll  to  accompany  the  committee  to  Canada, 
to  assist  them  in  such  matters  as  they  shall  think  useful.” 

Father  Carroll  acceded  to  the  request  of  Congress.  Af- 
ter four  weeks  of  toil,  exposure,  and  unusual  difficul- 
ties, which,  however,  did  not  dampen  the  cheerful  spirits  of 
the  patriotic  travelers,  nor  check  the  ever-ready  and  en- 
tertaining wit  of  Dr.  Franklin,  they  reached  Montreal  on 
the  night  of  the  29th  of  April,  1776.' 

While  the  commissioners  were  negotiating  with  the  au- 


did,  a remarkable  exception,  it  desers-ee  a word  of  notice.  This  little  spot,  consecrated  to  relig- 
ious freedom,  was  in  Stafford  County,  and  was  called  Woodstock.  The  inhabitants  were  vested 
with  the  right  of  freely  exercising  their  religion,  by  a special  grant  under  the  royal  signet  of 
James  II.  Captain  George  Brent  was  the  leader  of  this  band  of  Catholic  pilgrims  in  Virginia, 
in  1686,  two  of  whose  descendants  were  married  to  Anne  and  Eleanor  Carroll,  sisters  of  Rev.  Mr. 
Carroll,  at  the  time  of  his  missionary  visits  to  Stafford,  in  1775-6. 

The  original  document  by  which  James  II.  conferred  this  singular  privilege — singular  at  that 
time  on  Woodstock  is  given  by  Dr.  Clarke  in  his  “ Memoir  of  Archbishop  Carroll,"  The  Metro- 
politan,, Vol.  IV.  Also,  in  his  “ Lives  of  the  Deceased  Bishops,”  Vol.  I. 

For  a hundred  years,  in  the  midst  of  perils,  this  brave  little  band  of  Catholics  rigidly  adhered 
to  their  religion.  They  were  occasionally  visited  by  priests  from  Maryland,  who  always  crossed 
the  Potomac  for  that  purpose  in  disguise.  The  good  Father  Framback,  who  frequently  attended 
them,  had  to  exercise  the  greatest  caution  to  avoid  discovery,  sleeping  generally  in  the  stable  be- 
side his  horse,  m order  to  be  prepared  for  sudden  flight.  On  one  occasion  he  barely  escaped 
with  his  life.  His  faithful  horse  carried  him  safely  through  the  water  of  the  Potomac  ; but  he 
was  fired  upon  before  he  had  reached  the  Maryland  side  of  the  river. 

' To  the  request  of  Congress,  Mr.  Carroll  acceded,  with  the  view,  so  far  as  he  was  to  have  an 
agency,  to  induce  the  inhabitants  of  that  country  who  professed  the  same  religion  with  himselL 
to  remain  neutral  and  to  refrain  from  -aking  up  arms  on  the  side  of  Great  Britain  ; further  than 
this,  he  deemed  it  incompatible  with  his  character  as  a minister  of  religion  to  interfere. — Brent. 

See  “Journal  of  Charles  Carsoll  of  Carrollton  during  his  visit  to  Canada  in  1776.” 

Father  Carroll  addressed  a letter  to  his  mother  dated  at  Montreal.  May  1st,  which  also  gives  an 
interesting  account  of  the  jonmey  to  Canada.  It  can  be  found  in  the  “American  Archives,’"  Vol 
V.  p.  1168. 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


643 


thorities,  regulating  the  affairs  of  the  American  forces  then 
in  Canada,  and  carrying  out  the  instructions  of  Congress, 
Father  Carroll  was  visiting  the  Canadian  clergy,  explaining 
the  nature  and  principles  of  the  revolutionary  struggle, 
pointing  out  the  identity  of  destiny  and  interest  which 
ought  to  unite  Canada  to  the  English  Colonies,  and  in  an- 
swering objections,  removing  prejudices  of  race,  and 
appealing  to  their  love  of  liberty.  He  was  ti-eated  with 
respect  and  listened  to  with  polite  attention. 

But  both  the  commissioners  and  Father  Carroll  received 
the  same  answer  from  the  Canadians — that  for  themselves 
they  had  no  cause  of  complaint  against  the  home  govern- 
ment of  Great  Britain,  which  had  guaranteed  to  them  the 
free  and  full  exercise  of  their  religion,  liberty,  and  prop- 
erty, and  that  in  return  the  duty  of  allegiance  and  fidelity 
was  due  from  the  Canadians  to  the  government,' 

The  mission  was  fruitless.  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton 
and  Samuel  Chase  remained  in  Canada  to  attend  to  the  af- 
fairs of  the  army.'  But  Dr.  Franklin’s  health  became  so 
poor  that  he  was  forced  to  leave  the  country  without  de- 
lay, and  Father  Carroll  became  his  companion  on  the 
homeward  journey.  The  priest  and  the  philosopher  con- 
tracted a sincere  friendship,  as  we  learn  from  the  grateful 
letters  of  Franklin.  On  reaching  New  York  he  wrote: 
“As  to  myself,  I grow  daily  more  feeble,  and  I should 
hardly  have  got  along  so  far  but  for  Mr.  Carroll’s  friendly 
assistance  and  tender  care  of  me.” 

On  his  return  home  to  Rock  Creek,  Father  Carroll  re- 
sumed the  duties  of  the  sacred  ministry,  which  he  con- 
tinued to  perform  without  interruption  during  the  whole 
Revolutionary  War.  Throughout  the  long  and  great 
struggle  he  ardently  sympathized  in  the  cause  of  Independ- 
ence. In  his  correspondence* *  with  his  late  brethren  in  Eng- 

* There  were,  of  course,  other  reasons  why  .he  Canadians  did  not  care  to  join  hands  with  the  Eng- 
ash  colonies  in  the  great  struggle.  We  have  not  space  here  to  give  them  m detail ; t must  suffice 
to  say,  however,  that  the  bigoted  language  used  by  the  Provincial  Congress  at  Boston  in  1773,  and 
the  public  expressions  of  insult  to  the  Catholic  Faith,  used  at  other  places  about  the  same  time, 
were  now  recalled  by  the  Canadians,  and  who  can  justly  blame  them  f 

* See  sketch  of  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton  in  the  present  volume. 

* See  Campbell’s  “Memoirs.” 


644 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


land  he  explained  and  defended  its  principles,  and  offered 
up  constant  and  fervent  prayers  for  its  success.  And  no 
citizen  of  the  Republic  saw  with  greater  joy  the  consummation 
of  the  glorious  result  of  the  contest,  enhanced  as  this  patri- 
otic joy  was  on  the  cessation  of  strife  and  carnage,  and  the 
blessed  return  of  peace  and  happiness. 

Father  Carroll's  powers  as  a controversialist  were  sum- 
moned into  service  in  1784.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Wharton,  his 
former  friend  and  fellow-member  of  the  Society  of  Jesus, 
had  apostatized  from  the  Catholic  Faith,  and  written  a pub- 
lic letter  attacking  its  principles.  The  reply  is  worthy  of  our 
first  Archbishop,  and  is  noted  for  its  strength,  elegance, 
and  triumphant  logic. 

Wharton,  among  other  charges,  had  asserted  that, 
“neither  transubstantiation,  nor  the  infallibility  of  the 
Roman  Church,  are  taught  more  explicitly  as  articles  of 
faith  than  the  impossibility  of  being  saved  out  of  the  com- 
munion of  this  Church.” 

Father  Carroll  replies  thus  to  this  point:  “I  begin 
with  observing  that  to  be  in  the  communion  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  and  to  be  a member  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  are  two  very  distinct  things.  They  are  in  the 
communion  of  the  Church.,  who  are  united  in  the  profes- 
sion of  her  faith,  and  participation  of  her  sacraments, 
through  the  ministry  and  government  of  her  lawful  pas- 
tors. But  the  members  of  the  Catholic  Church  are  all 
those  who,  with  a sincere  heart,  seek  true  religion,  and 
are  in  an  unfeigned  disposition  to  embrace  the  truth  when- 
ever they  find  it. 

“ Now  it  never  was  our  doctrine  that  salvation  can  be  ob- 
tained only  by  the  former,  and  this  would  have  manifestly 
appeared,  if  the  chaplain,'  instead  of  citing  Pope  Pius’s 
creed  from  his  memory,  or  some  unfair  copy,  had  taken 
the  pains  to  examine  a faithful  transcript  of  it.  These  are 
the  words  of  the  obnoxious  creed,  and  not  those  wrongfully 
quoted  by  him,  which  are  not  to  be  found  in  it.  After  enu- 


‘ Wharton 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


645 


merating  the  several  articles  of  our  belief,  it  goes  on  thus: 
‘ This  true  Catholic  Faith.,  without  which  no  one  can  he 
sated,  I do  at  this  present  firmly  profess  and  sincerely 
hoU: 

“Here  is  nothing  of  the  necessity  of  communion  with 
our  Church  for  salvation;  and  nothing,  I presume,  but 
what  is  taught  in  every  Christian  society  on  earth,  viz., 
that  Catholic  Faith  is  necessary  to  salvation.  The  dis- 
tinction between  being  a member  of  the  Catholic  Church, 
and  of  the  communion  of  the  Church,  is  no  modern  dis- 
tinction, but  a doctrine  uniformly  taught  by  ancient  as 
well  as  later  divines.  What  is  said,  says  Bellarmine, 
of  none  being  sated  out  of  the  Church,  must  he  under- 
stood of  those  who  belong  not  to  it  either  in  fact  or 
desire.’'’’ 

Father  Carroll,  after  dwelling  at  considerable  length  on 
the  charity  and  kindness  of  the  Catholic  Church,  refers 
again  to  the  question  of  exclusive  salvation,  deeming  it,  as 
he  says,  “ of  the  utmost  importance  to  charity  and  mutual 
forbearance  to  render  our  doctrine  on  this  head  as  perspic- 
uous as  I am  able.” 

‘•First,  then,”  he  continues,  “it  has  been  always  and 
uniformly  asserted  by  our  divines,  that  Baptism,  actual 
Baptism,  is  essentially  requisite  to  initiate  us  into  the 
communion  of  the  Church ; this  notwithstanding,  their 
doctrine  is  not  less  uniform,  and  the  Council  of  Trent 
(Sess.  6.  chap.  4.)  has  expressly  established  it,  that  sal- 
vation may  be  obtained  without  actual  Baptism.  Thus, 
then,  it  appears  tjiat  we  not  only  may,  but  are  obliged 
to  believe  that  out  of  our  communion  salvation  may  be 
obtained. 

“Secondly,  with  the  same  unanimity,  our  divines  define 
heresy  to  be,  not  merely  a mistaken  opinion  in  matters  of 
Faith,  but  an  obstinace  adherence  to  that  opinion ; not 
barely  an  error  of  judgment,  but  an  error  arising  from  a 
perverse  affection  of  the  will.  Hence  they  infer  that  he  is 
no  heretic  who,  though  he  hold  false  opinions  in  matters 
of  faith,  yet  remains  in  a habitual  disposition  to  renounce 


646 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D. 


those  opinions,  whenever  he  discovers  them  to  be  con';rary 
to  the  doctrines  of  Jesus  Christ.’  ’ ‘ 


' “I  call  him  only  a heretic,  who,  when  the  doctrine  of  Catholic  Faith  is  manifeste';  tc  lim, 
prefers  resistance.” — St.  Augustine. 

“ Heresy  in  a Christian,  or  baptized  person,  is  a willful  and  obstinate  error  of  the  onderstsiiA 
ing,  in  opposition  to  some  truth  of  Faith.” — Beuier, 


CHAPTER  III. 

FATHER  CARROLL  AND  OUR  EARLY  CHURCH. 

Btate  of  ecclesiastical  jurisdiction  before  the  Revolution- 
What  the  clergy  of  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania  did — 
Father  Carroll  appointed  Prefect  Apostolic — Dr 
Franiclin — Washington  at  Mass— Dr.  CarrolV  s labors 
— Appointed  first  Bishop  of  Baltimore — Statistics  of 
Catholicity. 

Before  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  the  Catholic  Clergy  of 
Maryland  and  Pennsylvania  were  subject  to  the  ecclesi- 
astical jurisdiction  of  the  Vicar- Apostolic  or  Bishop  of 
London,  England,  who  was  represented  in  these  provinces 
by  his  Vicar- General,  the  Rev.  Father  Lewis,  Superior  of 
the  Society  of  Jesus  here,  at  the  date  of  its  suppression. 

Soon  after  the  termination  of  the  war,  however,  the 
clergy  of  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania,  being  sensible  that, 
to  derive  all  advantage  from  the  new  state  of  things  in 
America,  it  would  be  proper  to  have  an  ecclesiastical  supe- 
rior in  the  country  itself ; and  knowing  the  jealousy  pre- 
vailing in  the  American  governments  against  the  right  of 
jurisdiction  being  vested  in  a person  residing  in  Great 
Britain,  addressed  themselves  to  the  Holy  See,  praying  that 
a superior  might  be  allowed,  and  that  he  might  be  chosen 
by  the  clergy,  subject  to  the  approbation  and  confirmation 
of  his  Holiness. 

The  American  clergy  believed  the  time  and  the  circum- 
stances of  the  new  nation  as  premature  for  the  presence  of 
a Bishop.  They  simply  desired  a superior  with  some  of 
the  episcopal  powers.  The  Holy  See,  in  its  wisdom,  came 
to  the  same  conclusion,  and  resolved  to  give  Maryland  a 
provisional  ecclesiastical  organization.  The  learned  and 

647 


648 


M08T  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D  , LL.D. 


patriotic  Rev.  Dr,  Carroll  received  the  appointment.  -He 
was  empowered,  among  other  things,  to  bless  the  holy  oils, 
and  to  administer  the  sacrament  of  confirmation.  This 
holy  sacramant,  which  strengthens  faith  in  man,  had  never 
yet  been  conferred  in  the  United  States, 

But  we  must  not  omit  to  mention  a fact  as  interesting 
as  it  is  singular.  The  venerable  statesman  and  philoso- 
pher, Dr.  Franklin — then  the  American  minister  at  Paris — 
had  an  honorable  share  in  the  nomination  of  the  future 
Patriarch  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States. 
“When  the  Nuncio  at  Paris, writes  Father  Thorpe,  in 
a letter  to  Rev.  Dr.  Carroll,  from  Rome,  dated  June  9th, 
1784,  “applied  to  Mr.  Franklin,  the  old  gentleman  re- 
membered you ; he  had  his  memory  refreshed  befort, 
though  you  had  modestly  put  your  own  name  in  the  lasL 
place  of  the  list.”  Franklin’s  Diary  records  this  mem- 
orable event  thus: 

“1784,  July  1st. — The  Pope’s  Nuncio  called  and  ac- 
quainted me  that  the  Pope  had,  on  my  recommendation, 
appointed  Mr.  John  Carroll  Superior  of  the  Catholic  clergy 
in  America,  with  many  of  the  powers  of  a Bishop,  and  that, 
probably,  he  would  be  made  a Bishop  in  partibus  before 
the  end  of  the  year.” 

In  consulting  Dr.  Franklin,  the  Holy  See  simply  wished  to 
pay  an  act  of  courtesy  to  fhe  young  Republic.  The  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States,  which  places  religion  beyond 
the  sphere  of  the  civil  power,  was  not  yet  drafted.  And  it 
need  excite  no  astonishment  that  even  educated  Europe 
was  not  familiar  with  the  principles  which  underlie  the 
American  Government. 

The  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Carroll,  as  Prefect  Apostolic,  at  once 
began  his  visits.  His  long  journeys  were  chiefly  through 
Maryland,  Pennsylvania,  and  New  York.  The  first,  as  the 
seat  of  the  old  Catholic  colony,  had  still  a respectable  num- 
ber of  Catholics ; and  in  Pennsylvania,  Dr.  Carroll  found  a 
population  of  about  seven  thousand  faithful. 

Some  time  before  the  arrival  of  the  Prefect  Apostolic, 
Philadelphia  was  the  scene  of  a notable  religious  ceremony^ 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.  D. 


FIRST  ARCHBISHOP  OF  BALTIMORE. 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,  LL.D 


649 


At  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  War  a solemn  Te 
chanted  in  St.  Joseph’s  church,  at  the  request  of  the  Marquis 
de  la  Luzerne,  the  French  embassador.  He  invited  the  mem- 
bers of  the  United  States  Congress,  as  well  as  the  principal 
generals  and  distinguished  citizens,  to  attend.  Washington 
and  Lafayette  were  present.  The  Abbe  Bandale  delivered 
a most  eloquent  discourse.  “Who  but  He,”  exclaimed  the 
eloquent  priest,  “He  in  whose  hands  are  the  hearts  of  men, 
could  inspire  the  allied  troops  with  the  friendship,  the  confi- 
dence, the  tenderness  of  brothers?  Ah!  the  combination  of  so 
many  fortunate  circumstances  is  an  emanation  of  the  all-per- 
fect Mind.  That  courage,  that  skill,  that  activity  bear  the  sa- 
cred impression  of  Him  who  is  divine.  . . . Let  us  with  one 
voice  pour  forth  to  the  Lord  that  hymn  of  praise  by 
which  Christians  celebrate  their  gratitude  and  His  glory— 
Te  Dmm  Laudamus.'^ 

For  five  years,  Very  Rev.  Dr.  Carroll,  as  Prefect  Aposi 
tolic,  toiled  on  with  the  amiability  and  zeal  of  an  apostle^ 
daily  encountering  obstacles  from  the  nature  of  his  duties, 
from  insubordinate  priests  and  laity,  that  would  have  dis' 
couraged  any  but  the  bravest  spirit. 

“Every  day,”  he  writes,  “furnishes  me  with  new  reflec- 
tions, and  almost  every  day  produces  new  events  to  alarm 
my  conscience,  and  excite  fresh  solicitude  at  the  prospect 
before  me.  You  cannot  conceive  the  trouble  I suffer  al- 
ready, and  still  greater  which  I foresee,  from  the  medley 
of  clerical  characters  coming  from  different  quarters  and 
various  educations,  and  seeking  employment  here.  I can- 
not avoid  employing  some  of  them,  and  they  begin  soon  to 
create  disturbances.” 

This  state  of  things  was  almost  to  be  expected,  on 
account  of  the  heterogeneous  character  of  both  people 
and  clergy.  As  many  of  the  clergy  were  entirely  ignor- 
ant of  the  English  language,  and  others  in  no  very 
good  repute  at  home,  it  was  soon  found  that  ampler 
powers  than  those  possessed  by  the  Prefect  Apostolic  were 
needed  to  hold  the  tangled  reins  of  authority  with  proper 
firmness. 


650 


MOST  BEV.  JOHN  GABBOLL,  D.D.,  LL.D, 


The  principal  members  of  the  American  clergy  who 
had  the  good  of  religion  at  heart  assembled,  and  peti- 
tioned Rome  for  a bishop.  The  request  was  granted, 
with  the  privilege  of  selecting  the  candidate  and  of  lo 
eating  the  new  see.  They  fixed  upon  Baltimore,  “this 
being,''  writes  Dr.  Carroll  to  a clerical  friend  in  Europe, 
"the  principal  town  in  Maryland,  and  that  State  being 
the  oldest,  and  still  the  most  numerous  residence  of  true 
religion  in  America.  So  fai  all  was  right.  We  then 
proceeded  to  the  election,  the  event  of  which  was  such  as 
deprives  me  of  all  expectation  of  rest  or  pleasure  hence 
forward,  and  fills  me  with  terror  with  respect  to  eternity. 
I am  so  stunned  with  the  issue  of  this  business,  that  I 
truly  hate  the  hearing  or  the  mention  of  it ; and,  there- 
fore, will  say  only,  that  since  my  brethren — whom  in  this 
case  I consider  as  the  interpreters  of  the  Divine  Will  — 
say  I must  obey,  I will  do  it ; but  by  obeying  shall  sacri 
fice  henceforward  every  moment  of  peace  and  satisfac- 
tion.” One  of  Dr.  Carroll’s  conspicuous  qualities,  a qual- 
ity that  shed  a luster  over  his  whole  character,  was  his 
modest  humility — 

‘ Humility,  that  low  sweet  root 
From  which  all  heavenly  virtues  shoot ! ” 

By  the  Holy  See  he  was  nominated  first  Bishop  of  Balti- 
more On  the  reception  of  the  official  documents  the  new 
prelate  at  once  proceeded  to  England  for  consecration.  The 
solemn  ceremony  took  place  in  Lulworth  Castle,  the  lordly 
residence  of  the  pious  Thomas  Weld,  on  Sunday,  August 
15ih,  1790.  The  consecrator  was  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Walmsley, 
senior  Catholic  bishop  of  Great  Britain. 

Laie  in  the  same  year  Bishop  Carroll  reached  the  shores 
of  America,  was  joyfully  welcomed  by  his  people,  and  in- 
stalled in  his  episcopal  see.  On  the  Sunday  of  installation 
he  addressed  them  a discourse  which  shall  ever  remain  a 
masterpiece  of  sacred  eloquence. 

‘ This  day,  my  dear  brethren,  ' began  the  venerable  man. 

‘ ' impresses  deeply  on  my  mind  a lively  sense  of  the  new  re- 


MOST  REV.  JOSy  CARROLL.  D.D.,  LL.D. 


651 


ladon  iu  which  I stand  before  you.  The  shade  of  retire- 
ment and  solitude  must  no  longer  be  my  hope  and  prospect 
of  consolation.  Often  have  I flattered  myself  that  my  de- 
clining years  would  be  indulged  in  such  a state  of  rest  from 
labor  and  solicitude  for  others,  as  would  leave  me  the  best 
opportunity  of  attending  to  the  great  concern  of  my  own 
salvation,  and  of  conflning  myself  to  remember  my  past 
years  in  the  bitterness  of  compunction.  But  it  has  pleased 
God  to  order  otherwise;  and  though  my  duty  commands 
submission,  it  cannot  allay  my  fears— those  fears  which  I 

feel  for  you  and  for  myself In  God  alone  can  I find 

any  consolation.  He  knows  by  what  steps  I have  been  con- 
ducted to  this  important  station,  and  how  much  I have  al- 
ways dreaded  it.  He  will  not  abandon  me  unless  I flrst 
draw  down  His  malediction  by  my  unfaithfulness  to  my 
charge.  Pray,  dear  brethren,  pray  incessantly  that  I may 
not  incur  so  dreadful  a punishment.  Alas ! the  punish- 
ment would  fall  on  you  as  well  as  myself— my  unfaithful- 
ness would  redound  on  you,  and  deprive  you  of  some  of 
the  means  of  salvation.”  What  modest  grandeur  and  sim- 
ple sublimity  mark  these  first  utterances  of  the  Patriarch  of 
the  American  Church ! 

At  this  point  it  may  be  proper  to  examine  into  the  num- 
ber of  Bishop  CarroU’s  spiritual  children  in  1790.  Relig  - 
ious statistics  in  our  country  have  been  at  all  times  in  a 
misty,  unsatisfactory  condition.  This  early  date  was  no 
exception.  All  figures,  therefore,  in  that  connection,  are 
to  be  received  as  approximations — guesses  at  truth.  The 
first  national  census  was  taken  in  1790,  and  gave  us  a total 
white  population  of  nearly  3,200,000.  Of  these  about  30,000 
were  Catholics.*  According  to  this  estimate,  one  in  every  one 
hundred  and  ten  of  the  white  population  was  a Catholic. 
Bishop  Carroll’s  diocese  was  the  United  States.  His  priests 
were  between  thirty  and  forty  in  number ; while  his  small 
but  wide-spread  flock  was  distributed  somewhat  as  follows: 


■ Many  writere  consider  this  too  small.  Some  mention  50,000,  and  even  higher,  as  being  nearar 
the  exact  number.  The  above  is  Bishop  Carroll's  estimate. 


662 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  H.D.,  LL.D. 


16,000  in  Maryland;  7,000  in  Pennyslvania ; 3,000  at  Detroit 
and  Vincennes ; 2,500  in  Dlinois,  and  in  all  the  other 
States  together  there  were  not  perhaps  more  than  1,500 — 
in  all  about  30,000,  Such  was  the  American  Church  at  the 
date  the  Holy  Father  firmly  planted  the  corner-stone  by 
erecting  the  first  episcopal  see  of  Baltimore. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PLANTING  THE  CEOSS. 

The  Church  of  the  United  States  and  its  early  troubles — 
Bishop  Carroll  directing  the  pioneers  of  the  Faith — 
Georgetown  College  founded — The  first  Synod  of  Balti- 
more— Visiting  Boston — Priests  from  France — '■'■Exiles 
of  Erin’’' — Baltimore  becomes  a metropolitan  see — Four 
new  Bishops — The  death  of  Archbishop  Carroll. 

As  an  organized  body  the  Catholic  Church  of  America 
now  fairly  began  its  heavenly  mission.  The  field  was  vast, 
the  laborers  few.  If  the  dark  times  had  passed,  and  the 
beautiful  star  of  hope  shone  brightly,  still  obstacles,  almost 
numberless,  appeared  on  every  side.  The  majority  of  the 
Catholics  were  poor.  Most  of  them  were  faithful  Irish  who 
had  fled  from  English  tyranny  and  spoliation ; numbers  of 
them  were  exiled  French  and  Germans,  who  had  gladly 
escaped  from  the  ruin  and  desolation  that  threatened 
European  society. 

In  many  States  the  very  name  of  Catholic  was  held  in 
contempt.  The  battle-ground  was  changed.  It  was  no  longer 
a struggle  for  existence  with  odious  penal  enactments,  but 
a ceaseless  conflict  with  ignorance  and  fanaticism — remains 
of  an  unhappy  past. 

At  all  hazards,  however,  the  Faith  was  to  be  preserved 
and  extended.  To  many  Catholics  the  very  sight  of  a 
priest  was  something  dimly  remembered.  They  had  not 
beheld  one  for  years ! The  practice  of  their  religion  was 
like  a happy  dream  of  youthful  days — almost  forgotten, 
yet  the  sweet  memory  of  which  lingered  in  the  mind.  The 
Sunday  of  first  communion,  with  its  celestial  peace  of  soul 
—who  can  forget  it  1 In  the  life  of  the  true  Catholic,  it  is 

653 


651 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D.,LLn. 


that  bright  day — that  day  of  beauty  which  is  a joy  for- 
ever ! 

Bishop  Carroll,  arming  himself  with  zeal,  courage,  and 
patience,  calmly  surveyed  the  immense  field ; and  like  an 
able  commander,  laid  down  his  plans,  and  at  once  began 
operations  With  Baltimore  as  abase  and  center  of  ac 
tion,  he  soon  made  his  power  felt  and  respected  even  to  the 
extremities  of  Georgia,  Maine,  and  Michigan.  A spiritual 
Hannibal,  the  wise  prelate  skillfully  maneuvered  his  small 
band  of  a few  dozen  priests.  He  gave  each  pastor  his  bene- 
diction. cheered  him  on  in  his  difficulties,  reminding  him 
of  his  high  mission  as  a member  of  the  vanguard  for  the 
conquest  of  souls.  Weak  points  were  strengthened;  ene- 
mies awed  into  neutrals,  or  changed  into  fast  friends  ; and 
the  outposts  of  the  Faith  gradually  extended.  This  is  no 
imaginary  picture.  The  prudence  and  lofty  zeal  of  Dr. 
Carroll  challenge  unqualified  admiration. 

While  yeo  Prefect  Apostolic,  Dr.  Carroll  had  begun  the 
foundation  of  Georgetown  College.  His  plan  embraced  a 
theological  seminary  to  conduct  the  studies  of  candidates 
for  the  priesthood,  and  an  academy  for  the  education  of 
youth.  The  site  selected  by  its  venerable  founder  for  this 
first  and  oldest  of  our  colleges  could  not  have  been  more 
judiciously  chosen,  either  for  health,  advantages  of  loca- 
tion, or  beauty  and  grandeur  of  scenery.* 


* Georgetown  College,  D.  C.,  is  the  oldest  and  most  venerable  Catholic  seat  of  learning  in  the 
United  States.  It  was  founded  by  Bishop  Carroll  in  1789,  and  two  years  after  opened  its  halls  to 
students.  At  first  it  was  simply  a preparatory  school.  The  first  student  was  the  famous  Wil- 
liam Castin,  of  North  Carolina.  No  poet,  painter,  or  philosopher  could  have  selected  a place 
more  picturesque  and  in  other  respects  better  adapted  for  a college,  than  the  suburbs  of  George- 
town. 

Tradition  has  preserved  the  details  of  Washington’s  visit  to  Georgetown.  The  little  college 
was  yet  surrounded  by  a white-washed  paling  fence,  when  the  Father  of  his  Country  arrived  on 
horseback,  without  suite  and  unatunied.  He  led  his  horse  to  the  simplfe  enclosure,  and  was 
first  received  by  the  late  Rev.  William  Matthews,  then  a young  professor.  The  Fathers  gave 
him  a most  cordial  welcome.  On  visiting  the  whole  establishment,  Washington  expressed  his 
admiration  at  the  magnificent  view  which  the  heights  of  Georgetown  enjoy  ; but  as  it  was  win- 
ter, and  an  icy  breeze  made  the  party  shiver,  the  great  General  observed  that  they  had  to  pur- 
chase the  beauties  of  nature  in  summer  by  the  winter’s  storm. 

In  the  fall  of  1801,  the  standard  of  studies  was  raised  and  Georgetown  became  a college.  In 
May,  1815,  James  Madison  being  President  of  the  United  States,  the  college  was  elevated  by  act 
of  Congress  to  the  rank  of  a university.  Shortly  after  this  date,  the  Jesuit  Fathers  took  formal 
fontrol  of  the  institution,  for  up  to  this  they  were  often  assisted  by  other  clergymen.  Its  pros' 


MOST  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.B  , Ljb.D.  C.:.; 

In  November,  1791,  the  Bishop  convened  his  first  synod 
in  Baltimore.  It  numbered  twenty-two  clergymen.  The 
salutary  measures  adopted  by  that  body  remain  to  this  day 
a monument  of  its  wisdom. 

About  this  time  Dr.  Carroll  paid  his  first  episcopal  visit 
to  the  capital  of  New  England.  ‘‘It  is  wonderful,”  he 
writes,  “ to  tell  what  great  civilities  have  been  done  to  me 
in  Boston,  where  a few  years  ago,  a ‘Popish’  priest  was 
thought  to  be  the  greatest  monster  in  creation.  Many  here, 
even  of  their  principal  people,  have  acknowledged  to  me 
that  they  would  have  crossed  to  the  opposite  side  of  the 
street  rather  than  meet  a Roman  Catholic  some  time  ago. 
The  horror  which  was  associated  with  the  idea  of  a ‘ papist  ’ 
is  incredible ; and  the  scandalous  misrepresentation  by 
their  ministers  increased  the  horror  every  Sunday.” 

On  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  affairs  had  reached  a 
terrible  crisis.  While  Divine  Providence  was  preparing  on 
this  Western  Continent  a new  and  grateful  field  for  the 
seed  of  truth,  it  was  disposing  events  in  Europe  and  other 
countries  for  supplying  that  field  with  zealous  and  active 
laborers  who  would  bring  forth  fruit  in  good  season.  The 
French  Revolution,  with  all  its  irreligious  horrors,  burst 
upon  the  world,  deluging  unhappy  France  in  the  blood  of 
her  best  and  bravest  sons.  It  was  a fearful  upheaval  of 
society — a social  volcano. 

But  what  was  a misfortune  for  the  land  of  St.  Louis, 
proved  a blessing  to  the  United  States.  Between  1791  and 
1799,  twenty-three  French  priests  sought  a refuge  ou  our 
shores.  In  learning,  virtue,  and  polished  manners,  they 
were  worthy  representatives  of  their  Divine  Master.  Each 

perity  dates  from  this  point.  In  18«,  the  astronomical  observatory  was  erected.  The  medical 
department  was  opened  in  May,  1851,  and  the  law  department  in  October,  1870. 

The  college  contains  a splendid  library  of  30,000  volumes  ; a botanical  conservatory  ; a well- 
filled  and  tastefully  arranged  cabinet  of  mineralogy  and  geology.  The  total  number  of  gradu- 
ates is  786.  Of  these  354  belong  to  the  arts,  571  to  the  medica.,  and  61  to  the  law  departments. 
The  present  number  of  students  is  280  ; professors,  40.  Georgetown  University  has  had  twenty- 
two  presidents.  Among  these  were  Bishop  Dubourg.  Bishop  Fenwick,  and  Archbishop  Neale. 
Among  the  distinguished  professors  of  Georgetown  may  be  named  Fathers  Wallace,  Eohlman, 
Secchi,  Ward,  Fulton,  and  Sumner.  The  present  president  is  Rev.  Patrick  F.  Healy,  S.  J.— “ A 
Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  Tfnited  States." 


656  ^OST  liEV  JOHN  CARROLL,  D.D  , LL  D. 

one  was  a valuable  acquisition  for  cur  young  and  struggling 
Church.  Each  was  a host  in  himself.  Six  of  them,  Flaget, 
Cheverus,  Dubois,  David,  Dubourg,  and  Marechal,  after- 
wards became  bishops.  The  names  of  Matignon,  Badin, 
Richards,  Ciquard,  Nagot,  Nerinckx,’  and  others  will  bo 
held  in  benediction  to  the  latest  ages. 

The  arrival  of  these  soldiers  of  the  Cross  enabled  Bishop 
Carroll  to  extend  and  partly  consolidate  his  vast  diocese. 
' The  Catholic  Church  of  the  United  States, ’’says  Archbishop 
Spalding,  “is  deeply  indebted  to  the  zeal  of  the  exiled 
French  clergy.  No  portion  of  the  American  Church  owes 
more  to  them  than  that  of  Kentucky.  They  supplied  our 
infant  missions  with  most  of  their  earlier  and  most  zealous 
laborers,  and  they  likewise  gave  to  us  our  first  bishops. 
There  is  something  in  the  elasticity  and  buoyancy  of  the 
character  of  the  French  which  adapts  them  in  a peculiar 
manner  to  foreign  missions.  They  have  always  been  the 
best  missionaries  among  the  North  American  Indians ; they 
can  mould  their  character  to  suit  every  circumstance  and 
emergency;  they  can  be  at  home  and  cheerful  everywhere. 
The  French  clergy  who  landed  on  our  shores,  though  many 
of  them  had  been  trained  up  amid  all  the  refinements  of 
polished  France,  could  yet  submit  without  a murmur  to  all 
the  hardships  and  privations  of  a mission  on  the  frontiers 
of  civilization,  or  in  the  very  heart  of  the  wilderness.  They 
could  adapt  themselves  to  the  climate,  mould  themselves  to 
the  feelings  and  habits  of  a people  opposite  to  them  in 
temperament  and  character.” 

Scarcely  had  the  nineteenth  century  dawned,  when 
the  great  tide  of  immigration  began  to  set  in  for  the 
shores  of  the  New  World.  If  the  French  Revolution  caused 
many  distinguished  men,  both  clerical  and  lay,  to  cast 
their  lot  in  our  land,  the  Irish  Rebellion  of  1798,  and  its 
fatal  termination,  likewise  forced  thousands  of  “Exiles  of 
Erin”  to  seek  their  fortunes  in  some  clime  more  favored 
than  their  own  unhappy  Isle.  For  them  the  United  States 


> Father  Nerinckx  was  a native  of  Belgiam — a man  of  singnlarly  austere  and  saintly  life. 


MOS\  REV.  JOHN  CARROLL.  D.D.,  LL.D. 


657 


had  a mysterious  attraction,  and  the  star  of  destiny  guided 
their  course  westward. 

It  was  chiefly  on  account  of  this  vast  stream  of  immigra- 
tion that  our  Church  grew  rapidly  in  numbers.  In  1807 
the  Catholics  of  New  York  City  numbered  about  14,000. 
Seventeen  years  before  they  were  set  down  at  less  than  one 
hundred  ! It  was  regarded  as  something  marvelous,  when, 
in  1808,  six  priests  were  ordained  in  one  day,  which,  writes 
the  venerable  Dr.  Carroll,  was  ‘ ‘ a happy  day  for  the  diocese. ' ’ 
In  view  of  this  increase,  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  deemed 
it  expedient  to  raise  Baltimore  to  the  rank  of  a Metropoli- 
tan See,  with  four  suffragan  bishoprics — New  York,  Phila- 
delphia, Boston,  and  Bardstown,  Kentucky. 

The  Rev.  Michael  Egan,  O.  S.  F.,  was  appointed  to  Phil- 
adelphia; Rev.  John  Cheverus,  to  Boston;  and  Rev.  Bene- 
dict Flaget,  S.  S.  S.,  to  Bardstown.  They  were  all  conse- 
crated by  Archbishop  Carrol,  at  Baltimore,  in  the  autumn 
of  1810.  The  Rev.  Luke  Concanen,  O.  S.  D.,  appointed 
for  New  York,  was  consecrated  at  Rome,  but  he  died  at 
Naples  on  the  eve  of  embarking  for  his  diocese.  At  this 
time  there  were  about  seventy  priests  and  eighty  churches 
in  the  United  States,  with  a Catholic  population  of  prob- 
ably one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  Of  the  five  prelates, 
one  was  an  American,  two  were  French,  and  two  Irish. 

Archbishop  Carroll  gathered  around  him  the  newly-conse- 
crated bishops  in  council.  It  was  a simple  but  venerable  as- 
sembly. Rules  of  discipline  were  drawn  up  for  the  future  gov- 
ernment of  the  American  Church;  and  throwing  themselves 
in  spirit  at  the  feet  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  these  pioneer 
prelates  of  the  New  World  addressed  him  a beautiful  letter 
of  submission,  asking  his  sanction,  instruction,  and  assist- 
ance in  the  government  of  their  churches.  They  also 
addressed  a brief  but  admirable  pastoral  letter  to  the 
Catholics  of  the  United  States. 

The  venerable  Archbishop  now  devoted  the  remainder 
of  his  days,  strength,  and  energy  to  the  great  work  of 
building  up  the  Church  and  strengthening  the  outposts  of 
religion  in  his  own  archdiocese.  Nothing  escaped  his  gen- 


G58  ^OST  rev.  JOHN  CARROLL,  D. D. , LL. D. 

lie,  watchful  care  until  the  light  of  this  world  faded  from 
his  eyes. 

A quarter  of  a century  had  rolled  by  since  he  was  created 
Bishop,  and  appointed  ecclesiastical  ruler  of  this  Republic. 
God  had  blessed  his  labors.  The  Catholic  Church  of  the 
United  States  had  reached  a point  in  numbers  and  prosperity 
as  unexpected  as  it  was  encouraging.  When  his  episcopate 
began,  the  country  was  without  religious  orders  or  educa- 
tional establishments.  Now  there  was  a great  change. 
Chiefly  by  his  exertions,  the  Jesuits,  Sulpitians,  Augustin- 
ians,  Dominicans,  Carmelites,  Visitation  Nuns,  Sisters  of 
Charity,  and  others  had  planted  themselves  in  the  soil,  and 
were  growing  up  like  beautiful  vines  about  the  tree  of 
the  Church.  The  United  States  was  an  ecclesiastical  prov- 
ince, with  its  bishops,  an  increasing  body  of  clergy,  and  a 
Catholic  population  numbering  over  two  hundred  thousand. 
In  the  midst  of  these  happy  circumstances  God  called  away 
his  faithful  servant.  At  the  ripe  old  age  of  eighty-one,  on 
December  3d,  1815;  departed  the  venerable  Dr.  Carroll, 
equally  illustrious  as  a man,  as  a Catholic,  as  a patriot,  as 
a Jesuit  Father,  as  a Bishop,  as  an  Archbishop,  and  as  the 
Father  and  Founder  of  the  American  Church. 


MRS.  E.  A.  SETON, 


\ 


FOUNDRESS  AND  FIRST  SUPERIOR  OF  THE  SISTERS  OF  CHARITY 


IN  THE  UNITED  STATES. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON, 

FOUNDRESS  OF  THE  SISTERS  OF  CHARITY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES.* * 


CHAPTER  L 

EARLY  YEARS  OF  OUR  HEROINE. 

Birth— Parents —Education — Religion — Personal  appear- 
ance— Marriage — Spirit  of  piety — As  a mother — JJeat  'n 
of  Dr.  Bayley. 

Elizabeth  Ann  Bayley  was  born  in  New  York  City  on  the 
28th  of  August,  1774.  She  was  the  younger  daughter’  of 
Dr.  Richard  Bayley,  a distinguished  American  physician. 
In  her  third  year  death  deprived  the  child  of  the  affection- 
ate care  of  her  mother  ; but  she  found  a tender  and  most 
excellent  guardian  in  her  accomplished  father. 

Dr.  Bayley  watched  over  the  education  of  his  little 
daughter  with  the  most  loving  and  ceaseless  solicitude ; and 
as  she  advanced  in  life  all  her  affections  became  centered  in 
her  father.  Elizabeth  manifested  this  unbounded  attach- 
ment in  various  ways.  Often,  when  at  school,  she  would 
learn  her  task  quickly,  repeat  it,  and  then  watch  a favor- 
able opportunity  of  eluding  the  vigilance  of  her  mistress,  in 
order  to  run  down  the  street  to  meet  her  father,  who  passed 
that  way,  embrace  him,  and  then  hasten  back  before  the 
old  lady  could  notice  her  absence ! 

Miss  Bayley  was  brought  up  in  the  doctrines  and  prac- 
tices of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church,  to  which  her 

* Chief  authoriticB  used:  Rev.  Dr.  White,  ‘‘  Life  of  Mrs.  E.  A.  Seton;  ” " Heroines  of  Charity; ' 
••A  Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States.” 

* Dr.  Bayley  had  only  two  children— daughters. 


659 


660 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETOH. 


parents  and  all  her  friends  belonged.  Her  mind,  however, 
was  free  from  any  tinge  of  bigotry,  and  she  even  admired 
some  Catholic  practices  of  piety.  She  wore  on  her  person 
a small  crucifix — the  emblem  of  man’s  redemption — and 
was  often  heard  to  express  her  astonishment  that  this  cus- 
tom was  not  more  prevalent  among  persons  of  her  own 
communion. 

In  the  growth  of  Miss  Bayley  we  notice  an  admirable 
harmony — body,  mind,  character,  all  grew  and  ripened  to- 
gether. An  excellent  character,  moulded  by  nature  and 
education,  ruled  her  every  act.  In  person  she  was  of  low 
stature,  but  her  figure  was  well  proportioned,  and  her  move- 
ments  graceful.  There  was  a charm  in  her  vivacity  and 
cheerfulness.  A perfect  symmetry  was  displayed  in  her 
features,  which,  with  the  sparkling  yet  mild  expression  of 
her  ej^e,  rendered  her  countenance  the  very  mirror  of  a 
noble  and  intelligent  soul. 

Such  was  Miss  Bayley,  when,  in  her  twentieth  year,  she 
became  the  Avife  of  Mr.  William  Seton,  a highly  respectable 
merchant  of  New  York  City,  part  of  whose  early  life  had 
been  spent  in  a mercantile  house  in  Leghorn  ; a circum- 
stance upon  which,  as  the  sequel  of  our  narrative  will  show, 
was  mysteriously  dependent  her  conversion  to  the  Catholic 
faith,  and  all  its  consequent  blessings  to  countless  souls. 
Endeared  to  a large  circle  of  admiring  friends  by  her  lively 
disposition  and  numerous  virtues,  and  married  to  an  esti- 
mable and  prosperous  man,  every  wordly  happiness  seemed 
now  to  be  opened  around  her;  but  instead  of  forgetting  in 
these  gifts  their  transitory  nature,  she  kept  strictly  before 
her  mind  that  every  dispensation  of  life  came  from  God; 
and  was  thus  not  unprepared  for  those  trials  and  adversi- 
ties which  it  was  His  will  should  be  her  portion. 

Within  the  first  year  of  her  marriage,  writing  to  her  hus- 
band, who  was  necessarily  absent  from  her,  and  exposed  to 
some  danger  of  the  yellow  fever,  she  calms  her  natural  anx- 
iety by  the  refiection  that  “patience  and  submission  are 
the  only  ways  to  gain  the  blessings  of  Heaven.”  And  to 
another  person  she  writes,  “We  are  not  always  to  have 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


661 


what  we  like  best  in  this  world,  thank  Heaven  ! for  if  we 
had,  how  soon  we  should  forget  the  other,  the  place  of  end- 
less peace ; where  they  wha  were  united  by  virtue  and  af- 
fection here  will  surely  enjoy  that  union  so  often  inter- 
rupted while  on  their  journey  home.”  Nor  are  these  re- 
Br.arks  mere  matters  of  course  • from  Mrs.  Seton  they  meant 
all  that  is  said.  Naturally  amiable  though  she  was,  it  was 
in  constant  prayer  and  meditation  that  she  sought  for 
strength  and  wisdom  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  her  daily 
intercourse  with  the  world.  Much  of  her  time  was  always 
spent  in  this  manner ; and  it  was  not  in  words  only,  but  in 
heart  and  soul,  that  she  referred  every  event  and  hope  to 
God. 

About  the  beginning  of  the  year  1800,  Mr.  Seton’ s affairs 
became  much  embarrassed  from  the  consequences  of  the 
war,  and  other  vicissitudes  always  incident  to  trade.  Mrs. 
Seton’ 8 well-disciplined  mind  rose  in  proportion  to  the 
necessities  of  the  occasion  ; and  she  not  only  cheered  him 
by  her  unfailing  courage  and  fortitude,  but  aided  him  ef- 
ficiently in  the  arrangement  of  his  papers.  “It  would  not 
do,”  she  said,  “for  hearts  and  fortunes  to  sink  together.” 

For  her  own  part,  she  turned  her  strength  and  consolation 
to  the  only  source  of  both ; and  the  following  prayer  will 
show  very  vividly  the  true  state  of  her  mind  at  this  period 
of  her  life;  ‘ The  cup  that  our  Father  has  given  us,  shall 
we  not  drink  it  ? O blessed  Saviour  ! by  the  bitterness  of 
Thy  pains  we  may  estimate  the  power  of  Thy  love  ; we  are 
sure  of  Thy  kindness  and  compassion.  Thou  wouldest  not 
willingly  call  on  US  to  suffer ; Thou  hast  declared  unto  us 
that  all  things  shall  work  together  for  our  good,  if  we  are 
faithful  to  Thee ; and  therefore,  if  Thou  so  ordainest  it, 
welcome  disappointment  and  poverty,  welcome  sickness  and 
pain,  welcome  even  shame  and  contempt  and  calumny.  If 
this  be  a rough  and  thorny  path,  it  is  one  which  Thou  hast 
gone  before  us.  Where  we  see  Thy  footsteps,  we  cannot 
repine.  Meanwhile,  Thou  wilt  support  us  with  the  conso- 
lations of  Thy  grace ; and  even  here  Thou  canst  more  than 
compensate  us  for  any  temporal  sufferings,  by  the  posses-- 


662 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


sioii  of  that  peace  which  the  world  can  neither  give  nor 
take  away.” 

In  the  course  of  years  Mrs.  Seton  became  the  mother  of 
five  children,  Anna-Maria,  William,  Richard,  Catherine- 
Josephine,  and  Rebecca.  She  was  the  fondest  and  most 
tender  of  mothers  ; but  her  love  was  purified  and  strength- 
ened by  the  continual  reflection  that  she  had  received  these 
children  from  Grod  to  train  them  for  His  kingdom.  She 
watched  over  their  spiritual  welfare  even  more  anxiously 
than  over  their  temporal ; and  was  not  restrained  by  any 
human  weakness  from  guiding  them  inflexibly  in  what  she 
believed  to  be  the  right  way.  Still,  her  reproofs  wej-e  min- 
gled with  sweetness  ; and  with  the  sure  tact  of  a mother’ s 
heart,  she  won  them  to  the  knowledge  and  love  of  virtue. 
She  would  write  short  notes  to  them  on  particular  occa- 
sions, which  impressed  their  minds  with  contrition  for  their 
little  faults,  and  inspired  desires  to  form  and  persevere  in 
the  happiest  resolutions  ; nor  was  any  opportunity  suffered 
to  pass  away  unimproved,  that  could  lead  their  infant  hearts 
to  Grod. 

The  following  note,  addressed  to  her  eldest  daughter 
when  a very  little  girl,  may  be  taken  as  a specimen  of  the 
simple  but  earnest  tone  of  unaffected  goodness  which  per- 
vades these  compositions:  “ My  dearest  Anna  must  remem- 
ber that  our  Blessed  Lord  gave  us  the  parable  of  the  wise 
and  foolish  virgins  to  make  us  careful  to  choose  our  part 
with  the  wise  ones,  and  to  keep  ns  in  readiness  for  His 
coming,  which  will  be  in  an  hour  that  we  know  not  of ; and 
should  He  find  us,  dear  child,  out  of  the  road  of  our  duty, 
like  sheep  gone  astray  from  their  shepherd,  where  shall 
we  hide  from  His  presence,  who  can  see  through  the  dark- 
est shades,  and  bring  us  from  tbe  furthest  ends  of  the 
Avorld  ? If  we  would  please  Him,  and  be  found  amongst 
His  children,  we  must  learn  what  our  duty  is,  pray  to  Him 
for  grace  to  doit,  and  then  set  our  whole  heart  and  soul  to 
perform  it.  And  what  is  your  duty,  my  dear  child?  You 
know  it,  and  I pray  God  to  keep  you  in  it ; that  in  that 
blessed  day  when  He  shall  come  to  call  us  to  our  heavenly 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


663 


home,  we  may  see  our  dear  Anna  in  the  number  of  those 
blessed  children  to  whom  He  will  say,  ‘ Come,  ye  blessed  of 

my  Father.  Your  own  dear  Mother.” 

Nor  was  it  to  her  own  children  alone  that  Mrs.  Seton’s 
influence  was  confined.  She  sought,  wherever  it  was  pos- 
sible, to  draw  the  hearts  of  others  to  the  consideration  of 
their  true  welfare  , and  that  in  a strain  of  such  affectionate 
solicitude,  that  her  efforts  were  seldom  altogether  without 
effect.  And  not  content  with  giving  good  advice,  she  also 
set  a most  edifying  example  of  active  charity  towards  the 
poor  and  suffering.  So  zealous  was  she  in  this  respect, 
that  she  and  another  relative  who  frequently  accompanied 
her  were  commonly  called  Protestant  Sisters  of  Charity. 
One  who  knew  her  well  at  this  time  says  of  her,  “She  con- 
sidered no  sacrifice  too  great  to  promote  the  glory  of  her 
heavenly  Master,  and  add  to  the  felicity  of  her  fellow-crea- 
tures.” 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  also,  with  what  singular  fervor 
and  devotion  Mrs.  Seton  was  in  the  habit  of  receiving  the 
Lord's  Supper,  as  it  is  called,  in  Che  Episcopalian  Church. 
Her  whole  soul  was  bent  on  reaching  our  Saviour's  pres- 
ence ; and  she  would  often  after  the  service  obtain  some  of 
the  remaining  elements,  and  even  go  from  one  church  to 
another  to  renew  her  participation  in  this  rite,  which  ap- 
pears to  have  been  administered,  at  certain  fixed  but 
rare  intervals,  simultaneously  in  all  the  churches  of  the 
city. 

In  1801  she  lost  her  venerated  and  beloved  father.  Dr. 
Bayley.  The  close  attachment  subsisting  between  parent 
and  child  had  been  only  more  firmly  cemented  by  the  lapse 
of  years  ; and  although  her  father  had  married  a second 
time,  and  she  herself  was  surrounded  by  all  the  engross- 
ments of  a young  family,  Mrs.  Seton  never  failed  to  devote 
a portion  of  every  day  to  visiting  him  in  the  midst  of  his 
arduous  and  benevolent  labors. 

Health  physician  to  the  port  of  New  York  during  the 
last  three  or  four  years  of  his  life,  he  found  full  scope  for 


664 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  6ET0N 


his  unbounded  philanthropy  among  the  vessels  detained  in 
quarantine  on  account  of  the  yellow  fever,  which  was  then 
raging  The  scenes  of  distress  all  around  him  were  past 
description  . yet  there  his  energetic  and  generous  spirit 
seemed  to  find  its  true  element.  He  was  everywhere 
am.ongst  the  sick  and  the  dying ; alw’ays  cheerful,  and 
never  wearying.  Gladly  would  his  daughter  have  been  at 
his  side,  to  share  his  noble  efforts  for  the  poor  suffering 
emigrants,  who  were  dying  by  hundreds ; indeed,  so 
strongly  was  her  sympathy  excited  on  their  behalf,  that 
nothing  but  her  fathers  positive  prohibition  kept  her 
from  weaning  her  own  infant,  that  she  might  become  a 
nurse  to  some  of  those  unfortunate  babes  who  were  perish- 
ing, simply  from  want  of  nourishment,  beside  their  dead  or 
dying  mothers.  She  was  also  much  struck  at  this  time  by 
the  religious  devotion  which  she  witnessed  among  the  poor 
faithful  Irish  emigrants,  whose  first  act  on  landing  at  Staten 
Island  was  to  assemble  under  the  open  canopy  of  heaven, 
and  kneeling  down,  to  adore  God  for  His  mercy. 

It  was  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty  amongst  the  emigrants 
that  Dr.  Bayley  was  at  last  seized  with  the  illness  which 
within  a week  carried  him  to  the  grave.  Mrs.  Seton’s 
anguish  can  scarcely  be  described ; she  watched  day  and 
night  beside  his  bed,  soothing  him  and  praying  for  him : 
but  her  special  subject  of  anxiety  was  the  prospect  of  his 
soul  for  all  eternity.  It  is  true  that  he  was  much  re- 
spected and  beloved  for  his  generous  benevolence  and 
many  other  excellent  qualities ; but  he  had  imbibed  what 
were  then  called  ‘‘philosophical  principles”;  so  that  the 
loving  and  devout  heart  of  his  daughter  was  tortured  by 
uncertainty  as  to  the  condition  of  his  soul  in  the  sight  of 
God.  Under  these  circumstances  no  sacrifice  seemed  too 
great,  if  only  she  could  wring  therefrom  some  confidence 
as  to  his  acceptance  with  God.  Leaving  his  dying  bed  for 
an  instant,  she  took  from  the  cradle  her  sleeping  infant ; 
and  going  out  into  the  open  air,  she  raised  it  to  heaven, 
and  thus  appealed  to  Infinite  Love:  “0  Jesus,  my  merciful 
Father  and  God,  take  this  little  innocent  offering  ; I give  it 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


665 


to  Thee  with  all  my  heart ; take  it,  my  Lord,  but  save  my 
father’s  soul ! ” The  child  was,  however,  spared,  to  become 
with  its  mother  a member  of  Che  true  Church ; and  Dr. 
Bayley  expired  on  the  16th  of  August,  1801.* 

Under  this  heavy  trial,  Mrs.  Seton's  determination  to 
love  and  to  serve  God  was  only  the  more  strengthened ; 
and  she  thus  records  her  firm  resolve  to  use  every 
means  in  her  power  to  “work  out  her  salvation”  : “Sol- 
emnly, in  the  presence  of  my  Judge,  I resolve  through  His 
grace  to  remember  my  infirmity  and  my  sin ; to  keep  the 
door  of  my  lips ; to  consider  the  cause  of  sorrow  for  sin 
in  myself,  and  those  whose  souls  are  as  dear  to  me  as  my 
own ; to  check  and  restrain  all  useless  words ; to  deny  my- 
self and  exercise  that  severity  that  I know  is  due  to  my 
sin ; to  judge  myself,  thereby  trusting  through  mercy  that 
I shall  not  be  severely  judged  by  my  Lord.” 


> This  portraiture  Is  to  be  found  among  Mrs.  Seton's  papers,  in  her  own  hand-writing, 
and  most  probably  refers  to  her  father: 

“ His  voice  is  peculiarly  adapted  to  cheer  the  desponding  and  encourage  the  trembling  sufferer, 
who  shrinks  with  fastidious  delicacy  from  any  of  the  remedies  of  the  healing  art.  Nor  is  its  in- 
fluence less  salutary  to  the  being  who,  shaken  by  the  tempests  of  the  world,  yet  struggles  to 
brave  them,  and  support  a claim  to  reason  and  fortitude.  Nature  has  endowed  him  with  that 
quick  sensibility  by  which,  without  any  previous  study,  he  enters  into  every  character;  and  the 
tender  interest  he  takes  in  the  mind’s  pains,  as  well  as  the  body’s,  soon  unlocks  its  inmost  re- 
cesses to  his  view,  and  fits  it  to  receive  the  species  of  consolation  best  adapted  to  its  wants.  It 
may  be  said  of  him,  as  of  the  celebrated  and  unfortunate  Zimmerman,  that  be  never  visited  a 
patient  without  making  a friend.” 

This  outline  of  character,  drawn  by  the  pen  of  Mrs  Seton,  is  not  less  credif>»''ie  to  her  as  an 
elegant  writer,  than  honorable  to  her  father  as  a distinguished  ornament  of  Hk  aiuJical  profe* 
sien  in  America.— .Scv.  Dr.  White. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  VOYAGE  TO  ITALY. 

Mr.  Seton's  Tiealfh  declines — A sea  voyage  proposed — The 
voyage — At  Leghorn — Pen-pictures — ‘•'•Poor  'William''’ 
—Death  of  Mr.  Seton — How  she  was  most  kindly  treated 
hy  the  Messrs.  Filicchi — At  Mass— Scraps  from  letters 

In  the  spring  of  1803  Mr.  Seton’ s health,  always  delicate, 
sensibly  declined ; and  a sea  voyage  was  recommended  by 
his  physicians.  He  resolved  upon  visiting  Italy,  and  renew- 
ing jiersonally  an  intimacy  formed  in  youth,  and  continued 
by  commercial  intercourse,  with  the  Messrs.  Filicchi,  dis- 
tinguished merchants  of  Leghorn.  Mrs.  Seton  could  not 
allow  him  to  travel  in  his  weak  state  without  her  watchful 
care,  and  taking  her  eldest  daughter,  then  eight  years  old, 
for  her  little  companion,  she  committed  her  other  children 
to  the  care  of  her  relations  during  her  absence.  Little  at 
the  time  did  she  contemplate  the  momentous  results  that 
journey  was  to  bring  forth.  Her  mind  was  absorbed  in 
anxious  uncertainty  about  her  husband’ s health ; but  her 
confidence  in  God  still  kept  her  calm  and  resigned. 

“Not  one  struggle  nor  desponding  thought  to  contend 
with,”  she  writes  to  a friend  when  about  midway  on  her 
passage  to  Italy;  “confiding  hope  and  consoling  peace 
have  attended  my  way  through  storms  and  dangers  that 
must  have  terrified  a soul  whose  rock  is  not  Christ.” 

Her  child  caught  the  whooping-cough  on  the  voyage  ; and 
she  was  thus  constantly  occupied  in  nursing  both  her  sick 
husband  and  suffering  child.  Neither  her  courage,  how- 
ever, nor  her  patience  seem  ever  to  have  failed  her ; not 
even  when,  on  their  arrival  at  Leghorn,  they  were  pre- 
vented from  landing,  or  at  least  were  obliged  to  remain  for 
666 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANX  SETOX. 


667 


some  time  in  the  lazaretto,  “an  immense  prison,’’  Mrs. 
Seton  writes,  “with  a high  window,  double-grated  with 
iron  ; through  which,  if  I should  want  anything,  I am  to 
call  a sentinel  with  a cocked  hat  and  long  rifled  gun.”  This 
mournful  introduction  to  Leghorn  is  thus  touchingly  de- 
scribed in  her  journal  by  the  affectionate  wife  who  had  so 
fondly  hoped  that  her  husband  might  find  renewed  life  in 
Italy.  It  being  “ explained  that  our  ship  was  the  first  to 
bring  the  news  of  the  yellow  fever  in  New  York,  she  must 
go  out  into  the  roads  ; and  my  poor  William,  being  sick, 
must  go  with  his  baggage  to  the  lazaretto.” 

“At  this  moment  the  band  of  music  that  always  wel- 
comes strangers  came  under  our  cabin-window,  playing 
‘Hail  Columbia,’  and  those  little  tunes  that  set  the  darlings 
dancing  and  singing  at  home.  Mrs.  O’Brien,  the  captain’s 
wife,  and  the  rest  were  almost  wild  with  joy  ; while  L 
was  glad  to  hide  in  my  berth  the  full  heart  of  sorrow  which 
seemed  as  if  it  must  break.  Y'ou  cannot  have  an  idea  of 
the  looks  of  my  poor  William,  who  seemed  as  if  he  could 
not  live  over  the  day.” 

Landed  at  length,  “we  were  directed  to  go  opposite  to 
the  window  of  the  capitano’s  house,  in  which  sat  Mrs. 
Philip  Filicchi — compliments  and  kind  looks  without  num- 
ber. A fence  was  between  us,  but  I fear  did  not  hide  my 
fatigues,  both  of  soul  and  body.  First  we  had  cherries 
handed,  or  rather  placed  for  us  ; for  after  we  had  touched 
them  they  could  not  go  back  to  the  house.  At  length  we 
were  shown  the  door  we  were  to  enter — No.  6,  up  twenty 
stone  steps — a room  with  high  arched  ceilings,  brick  floor, 
and  naked  walls.  The  capitano  sent  three  warm  eggs,  a 
bottle  of  wine,  and  some  slices  of  bread. 

“ William’s  mattress  was  soon  spread,  and  he  upon  it ; he 
could  not  touch  wine  or  eggs.  Our  little  syrups,  currant- 
jelley,  drinks,  etc.,  which  he  must  have  every  half-hour  on 
board  ship — where  were  they  ? I had  heard  the  lazaretto 
was  the  very  place  for  comfort  for  the  sick,  and  brought 
nothing ; soon  found  there  was  a little  closet,  in  which  my 
knees  found  rest ; and  after  emptying  my  heart  and  wash- 


668 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


ing  the  bricks  with  my  tears,  returned  to  my  poor  William, 
and  found  him  and  Anna  both  in  want  of  a preacher.  Dear 
girl,  she  soon  found  a rope  that  had  tied  her  box,  and  be- 
gan jumping  away  to  warm  herself ; for  the  coldness  of  the 
walls  and  bricks  made  us  shiver.  At  sunset,  dinner  came 
from  the  kind  Filicchis,  and  other  necessaries  ; we  went  to 
the  grate  again  to  see  them. 

“ And  now,  on  the  ship  mattresses  spread  on  this  cool  floor, 
William  and  Anna  are  sound  asleep  ; and  I trust  that  God, 
who  has  given  him  strength  to  go  through  a day  of  such 
exertion,  will  carry  us  on.  He  is  our  all  indeed.  My  eyes 
smart  so  much  with  crying,  wind,  and  fatigue,  that  I must 
close  them  and  lift  up  my  heart;  sleep  won’t  come  very 
easily.  If  you  had  seen  little  Anna’s  arms  clasped  around 
my  neck  at  her  prayers,  while  the  tears  rolled  a stream, 
how  you  would  love  her  ! I read  her  to  sleep  with  pieces  of 
trust  in  God  ; she  said,  ‘ Mamma,  if  papa  should  die  here — 
but  God  will  be  with  us.’  God  is  with  us  ; and  if  sufferings 
abound  in  us,  His  consolations  also  greatly  abound,  and 
far  exceed  our  utterance.  If  the  wind  (for  it  is  said  there 
never  were  such  storms  at  this  season)  that  now  almost 
puts  out  my  light,  and  blows  on  my  William  through  every 
crevice,  and  over  our  chimney  like  loud  thunder,  could 
come  from  any  but  His  command  ; or  if  the  circumstances 
that  have  placed  us  in  so  forlorn  a situation  were  not 
guided  by  His  hand,  miserable  indeed  would  be  our  case. 
Within  this  hour  William  has  had  a violent  fit  of  coughing, 
so  as  to  bring  up  blood  ; which  agitates  and  distresses  him 
through  all  his  endeavors  to  hide  it.  What  shall  we  say  1 
This  is  the  hour  of  trial ; the  Lord  support  and  strengthen 
us  in  it.  Retrospections  bring  anguish ; ‘ press  forwards 
towards  the  mark  and  prize.’  ” 

'■'2Qth,  Sunday  morning.  The  matin-bells  awakened 
my  soul  to  its  most  painful  regrets,  and  filled  it  with  an 
agony  of  sorrow,  which  could  not  at  first  find  relief  even  in 
prayer.  In  the  little  closet,  whence  there  is  a view  of  the 
open  sea,  and  the  beatings  of  the  waves  against  the  high 
rocks  at  the  entrance  of  this  prison,  which  throws  them 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


669 


violently  back,  and  raises  tbe  white  foam  as  high  as  its 
walls,  I lirst  came  to  my  senses,  and  reflected  that  I was  of- 
fending my  only  Friend  and  Resource  in  my  misery,  and 
voluntarily  shutting  from  my  soul  the  only  consolation 
it  could  receive.  Pleading  for  mercy  and  strength  brought 
peace,  and  with  a cheerful  countenance  I asked  William 
what  we  should  do  for  breakfast ; the  doors  were  unbarred, 
and  a bottle  of  milk  let  down  in  the  entrance  of  the  room 
— poor  Philip  fearing  to  come  too  near.  Little  Anna  and 
William  ate  it  with  bread,  and  I walked  the  floor  with  a 
crust  and  a glass  of  wine. 

“ William  could  not  sit  up  ; his  ague  came  on,  and  with  it 
my  soul’s  agony ; my  husband  on  the  cold  bricks  without 
fire,  shivering  and  groaning,  lifting  his  dim  and  sorrowful 
eyes  with  a fixed  gaze  in  my  face,  while  his  tears  ran  on  his 
pillow,  without  one  word.  Anna  rubbed  one  hand  ; I the 
other,  till  h’s  fever  came  on.  The  capitano  brought  us 
news  that  our  time  was  lessened  five  days ; told  me  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  dispensations  of  God,  etc. ; and  was  an- 
swered by  such  a succession  of  sobs,  that  he  soon  departed. 
Mr.  Filicchi  now  came  to  comfort  my  William,  and  when 
he  went  away,  we  said  as  much  of  our  Church  service  as 
William  could  go  through.  I then  was  obliged  to  lay  my 
head  down.  . . . After  prayers,  read  my  little  book  of 

sermons,  and  became  far  more  happy  than  I had  been 
wretched. 

'■'‘Monday.  Awoke  with  the  same  rest  and  comfort  with 
which  I had  lain  down,  gave  my  William  his  warm  milk, 
and  began  to  consider  our  situation — though  so  unfavorable 
to  his  complaint — as  one  of  the  steps  in  the  dispensations 
of  that  Almighty  will  which  could  alone  choose  right  for 
us  ; and  therefore  set  Anna  to  work,  and  myself  to  the  dear 
Scriptures  as  usual ; lying  close  behind  the  poor  shiverer,  to 
keep  him  from  the  ague.  Our  capitano  came  with  his  guards, 
and  put  up  a very  neat  bed  and  curtains  sent  by  Filicchi ; 
and  fixed  the  benches  on  which  Anna  and  I were  to  lie.” 

From  the  Messieurs  Filicchi  Mrs.  Seton  received  every 
possible  alleviation  in  her  desolate  and  sorrowful  imprison- 


670 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


ment ; for  such  the  time  of  quarantine  literally  was.  The 
notices  in  her  journal  at  this  time  are  most  deeply  interest- 
ing. She  saw  her  husband,  “who  left  his  all  to  seek  a 
milder  climate,  confined  in  this  place  of  high  and  damp 
walls ; exposed  to  cold  and  wind,  which  penetrates  to  the 
very  bones ; without  fire,  except  the  kitchen  charcoal, 
which  oppresses  his  breast  so  much  as  nearly  to  convulse 
him ; ” and  yet  her  confidence  in  God  was  so  unshaken,  her 
resignation  to  His  will  so  complete,  that,  far  from  murmur- 
ing, most  of  her  expressions  are  those  of  praise  and  thanks 
giving.  “ Little  billets  of  paper  pasted  on  the  doors  mark 
how  many  days  different  persons  have  stayed;  and  the  shut- 
ter is  all  over  notched  10,  20,  30,  40  days.  I do  not  mark  ours, 
trusting  they  are  marked  above.  He  only  knows  best.” 

“ A day  of  bodily  pain,  but  peace  with  God.” 

“Anna  and  I sung  Advent  hymns  with  a low  voice. 
After  all  were  asleep,  I said  our  Church  service  alone. 
William  had  not  been  able  in  the  day.  Found  heavenly 
consolations,  forgot  prisons,  bolts,  and  sorrows  ; and  would 
have  rejoiced  to  have  sung  with  St.  Paul  and  Silas.” 

“ I find  my  present  opportunity  a treasure  ; and  my  con- 
finement of  body  a liberty  of  soul,  which  I may  never 
again  enjoy  whilst  they  are  united.” 

“So  you  see,  as  you  know,  with  God  for  our  portion, 
there  is  no  prison  in  high  walls  and  bolts ; no  sorrow  in 
the  soul  that  waits  on  Him,  though  beset  with  present  pains 
and  gloomy  prospects.  For  this  freedom  I can  never  be  suffi- 
ciently thankful,  as  in  my  William’s  case  it  keeps  alive 
what  in  his  weak  state  of  body  would  naturally  fail ; and 
often  when  he  hears  me  repeat  the  psalms  of  triumph  in 
God,  and  read  of  St.  Paul’s  faith  in  Christ,  with  my  whole 
soul,  it  so  enlivens  his  spirit  that  he  makes  them  also  his 
own,  and  all  his  sorrows  are  turned  into  joy.  Oh,  well  may 
I love  God,  well  may  my  whole  soul  strive  to  please  Him  ; 
for  what  but  the  pen  of  an  angel  can  ever  express  what  He 
has  done,  and  is  ever  doing  for  me!  While  I live,  while  I 
have  my  being,  in  time  and  through  eternity,  let  me  sing 
praises  to  my  God.” 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


671 


“Alone!  alone?  recall  the  word— my  Bible,  commenta 
ries,  Kempis — visible  and  continual  enjoyment — when  I 
cannot  get  hours,  I take  minutes.  Invisible  ! Oh,  the  com- 
pany is  numberless.  Sometimes  I feel  so  assured  that  the 
guardian- angel  is  immediately  present,  that  I look  from  my 
book,  and  can  hardly  be  persuaded  I was  not  touched. 
‘Poor  soul!’  John  Henry  Hobart'  would  say,  ‘she  will 
lose  her  reason  in  that  prison.’  But  the  enjoyments  only 
come  when  all  is  quiet,  and  I have  passed  an  hour  or  two 
with  King  David  or  the  prophet  Isaiah.  These  hours,  I 
often  think,  I shall  hereafter  esteem  the  most  precious  of 
my  life.” 

In  this  blessed  state  of  union  with  God’s  will  Mrs.  Seton 
steadfastly  persevered ; and  was  able  to  nurse  her  dying 
husband  day  and  night  with  the  most  heroic  fortitude  and 
patience.  She  little  expected  he  could  linger  through  the 
period  of  quarantime,  and  sometimes  even  “kissed  his  pale 
face  to  see  if  it  was  cold;”  but  her  faith  never  failed. 
“The  dampness  about  us,”  she  writes  within  six  days  of 
leaving  the  lazaretto,  “would  be  thought  dangerous  for  a 
person  in  health  ; and  my  William’s  sufferings — oh!  well 
I know  that  God  is  above. 

“ Capitano,you  need  not  always  point  your  silent  look  and 
finger  there.  If  I thought  our  condition  the  providence  oi 
men,  instead  of  the  weeping  Magadalen,  as  you  so  gra- 
ciously call  me,  you  would  find  me  a lioness,  willing  to  burn 
your  lazaretto  about  your  ears,  if  it  was  possible,  that  I 
might  carry  off  my  poor  prisoner  to  breathe  the  air  of  heaven 
in  some  more  reasonable  place.  To  keep  a poor  soul,  who 
comes  to  your  country  for  his  life,  thirty  days  shut  up  in 
damp  walls,  with  smoke  and  wind  from  all  quarters,  blow- 
ing even  the  curtains  round  his  bed  (and  his  bones  almost 
through);  and  he  the  shadow  of  death,  trembling  if  he 
only  stands  a few  minutes ! He  is  to  go  to  Pisa  for  his 
health  ; this  day  his  prospects  are  very  far  from  Pisa ; but, 

• Mr.  Hobart,  then  a minipter  of  the  Episcopalian  Church,  and  afterwards  Bishop  of  Vew 
York,  was  a man  of  singular  talent  and  influence,  and  .he  friend  and  spiritual  adviser  cf  Mrs. 
Seton  at  that  time. 


672 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


all,  my  heavenly  Father ! I learn  that  these  contradictory 
events  are  permitted  and  guided  by  Thy  wisdom,  which 
only  is  light ! We  are  in  darkness,  and  must  be  thankful 
that  our  knowledge  is  not  wanted  to  perfect  Thy  work, 
and  also  keep  in  mind  that  infinite  mercy,  which,  in  per- 
mitting the  sufferings  of  the  perishing  body,  has  provided 
for  our  souls  so  large  an  opportunity  of  comfort  and 
nourishment  for  an  eternal  life  ; where  we  shall  assuredly 
find  that  all  things  have  worked  together  for  our  good,  for 
our  sure  trust  is  in  Thee.” 

After  a few  more  “ melancholy  days  of  combat  with  na 
ture’s  weakness,  and  the  courage  of  hope  which  pictured 
our  removal  from  the  lazaretto  to  Pisa,”  Mrs  Se ton  was  at 
length  permitted  to  leave  the  inhospitable  walls  which  had 
sheltered  her  since  her  arrival  in  Italy,  and  with  her  hus- 
band and  little  girl  was  conveyed  in  Mr.  Filicchi’s  carriage  to 
Pisa  ; though  it  seemed  doubtful  whether  Mr.  Seton  would 
reach  the  end  of  his  journey  alive.  In  fact,  he  only  lin 
gered  a week  more,  during  which  time  his  sufferings  were 
so  great  that  his  constant  prayer  was  for  “ pardon  and  re- 
lease” ; and  on  the  27th  of  December,  1803,  Mrs.  Seton  be 
came  a widow  amongst  strangers  and  in  a foreign  land. 

Yet,  so  far  from  being  overwhelmed  by  her  situation,  it 
seemed  as  if  her  strength  and  courage  rose  with  tne 
trial.  She  writes,  after  herself  performing  the  last  duties 
to  her  deceased  husband,  “I  felt  that  I had  done  all — all 
that  tenderest  love  and  duty  could  do.  My  head  had  not 
rested  for  a week ; three  days  and  nights  the  fatigue  had 
been  incessant,  and  one  meal  in  twenty- four  hours , still 
I must  work,  dress,  pack  up,  and  in  one  hour  be  in  Mr. 
Filicchi’s  carriage,  and  ride  fifteen  miles  to  Leghorn  Carl- 
ton and  our  old  Louis  stayed  to  watch,  and  my  William 
was  brought  in  the  afternoon  and  deposited  in  the  house 
appointed,  in  the  Protestant  burial-ground.  Oh,  what  a 
day  ! close  his  eyes,  lay  him  out,  ride  a journey,  be  obliged 
to  see  a dozen  people  in  my  room  till  night,  and  at  night 
crowded  with  the  whole  sense  of  my  situation.  Oh,  my 
Father  and  my  God ! ...  In  all  this  it  is  not  necessary  to 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


673 


d^^  ,11  on  the  mercy  and  consoling  presence  of  my  dear  Lord ; 
lor  no  mortal  strength  could  support  what  I experienced.” 

After  the  knowledge  of  Mrs.  Seton’ s character  which  we 
derive  from  these  passages  of  her  private  journal  and  letters, 
it  can  scarcely  be  necessary  to  add,  that  from  the  very  first 
she  had  made  a most  favorable  impression  upon  all  who 
saw  her  attending  her  dying  husband,  and  enduring  the 
peculiar  trials  of  those  first  few  weeks  in  the  lazaretto ; but 
when,  from  the  fear  of  contagion  in  others,  she  herself  un- 
dertook to  lay  out  the  corpse,  those  around  her  cried  out 
with  admiration,  “ If  she  were  not  a heretic,  she  would  be  a 
saint.” 

The  widow  and  her  daughter  were  now  received  like  dear 
relations  into  the  house  of  the  Messieurs  Filicchi,  whose 
names  have  been  already  mentioned  as  early  friends  of  her 
husband.  These  men  were  merchants  of  the  highest  stand- 
ing , and  besides  being  devout  and  fervent  Christians,  were 
men  of  enlightened  and  talented  minds.  The  elder  brother, 
Mj-  Philip  Filicchi,  was  honored  by  the  special  confidence 
of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany 

Everything  was  done  by  these  generous  friends  to  divert 
and  restore  Mrs.  Seton' s suffering  spirit;  and  a visit  was 
made  to  Florence,  that  she  might  have  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  some  of  the  charms  of  Italy  before  returning  to  her 
family  in  America.  The  churches  and  the  sacred  paintings 
seem  alone  to  have  impressed  her  during  this  visit.  Of  the 
picture  of  the  Descent  from  the  Cross  in  the  Pitti  Palace, 
she  says,  “It  engaged  my  whole  soul ; Mary  at  the  foot  of 
it  expressed  well  that  the  iron  had  entered  into  hers  ; and 
the  shades  of  death  over  her  agonized  countenance  so 
strongly  contrasted  with  the  heavenly  peace  of  the  dear 
Redeemer,  that  it  seemed  as  if  His  pains  had  fallen  on 
her  ” 

It  will  be  easily  conceived,  from  the  character  of  Mrs 
Seton’s  friends,  and  from  her  own  lively  and  impressionable 
mind,  that  some  pains  were  taken  during  her  short  stay 
amongst  them  to  enlighten  her  on  the  subject  of  the  Cath- 
olic Faith.  Mr.  Filicchi  once  remarking  chat  there  was 


674 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


but  one  true  religion,  and  without  a right  faith  no  one 
could  be  acceptable  to  God,  Mrs.  Seton  replied,  “Oh,  sirl 
if  there  is  but  one  faith  and  nobody  pleases  God  without  it, 
where  are  all  the  good  people  who  die  out  of  it? ” “I  don’t 
know,”  answered  her  friend  ; “ that  depends  on  what  light 
of  faith  they  have  received  ; but  I know  where  people  go 
who  can  know  the  right  faiths  if  they  pray  and  inquire 
for  it,  and  yet  do  neither  ” “That  is  to  say,  sir,  you  want 
me  to  pray  and  inquire,  and  be  of  your  faith.”  said  Mrs 
Seton,  laughing  “Pray  and  inquire,”  he  added,  “that 
is  all  I ask  of  you.” 

Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi  also  wrote  to  her  whilst  at  Flor- 
ence, urging  this  important  subject  upon  her  in  the  fol- 
lowing terms:  “Your  dear  William  was  the  early  friend  of 
ray  youth  ; you  are  now  come  in  his  room  , your  soul  is  even 
dearer  to  Antonio,  and  will  be  so  forever  May  the  good 
Almighty  God  enlighten  your  mind  and  strengthen  youi 
heart,  to  see  and  follow  in  religion  the  sweet,  true  way  to 
the  eternal  blessings.  I shall  call  for  you  I must  meet 
you  in  Paradise,  if  it  is  decreed  that  the  vast  plains  of  the 
ocean  shall  soon  be  betwixt  us  Don’t  discontinue  in  the 
meanwhile  to  pray — to  knock  at  the  door  ” 

They  also  put  books  in  her  hands,  and  introduced  to  her 
a learned  priest.  For  awhile  Mrs  Seton  had  no  misgiv- 
ings respecting  the  soundness  of  the  Protestant  faith  and 
writes  as  follows  to  a friend  at  home:  “I  am  hard  pushed 
by  these  charitable  Romans,  who  wish  that  so  much  good- 
ness should  be  improved  by  a conversion  , which  to  effect, 
they  have  now  taken  the  trouble  to  bring  me  their  best  in- 
formed priest,  Abbe  Plunkett,  who  is  an  Irishman  ; buf 
they  find  me  so  willing  to  hear  their  enlightened  conversa- 
tion, that  consequently , as  learned  people  like  to  hear 
themselves  best,  I have  but  little  to  say,  and  as  yet  keef 
friends  with  all,  as  the  best  comment  on  my  profession  ” 

But  it  was  impossible  that,  with  such  edifying  examples 
before  her  eyes,  and  such  able  arguments  addressed  to  her 
understanding,  she  should  not  at  last  begin  to  doubt  her 
perfect  security  ; and  with  the  first  misgiving  arose  a fer- 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


075 


vent  prayer  to  God  that,  if  not  yet  in  the  right  way,  she 
might  be  graciously  led  into  it.  This  became  her  daily 
petition ; nor  need  it  be  told  how  surely,  in  answer  to  this 
heartfelt  and  humble  prayer,  she  was  gradually  impressed 
by  the  truths  of  Catholicity,  and  yielded  up  her  soul  to 
this  Divine  influence  long  before  she  was  conscious  that  she 
had  swerved  from  Protestant  belief. 

Having  once  accompanied  her  friends  to  hear  Mass  in  the 
church  of  Montenero,  a young  Englishman  who  was  pres- 
ent observed  to  her  at  the  very  moment  of  the  elevation, 
“This  is  what  they  call  their  Real  Presence  ! ” “My  very 
heart,”  says  Mrs.  Seton,  “ trembled  with  pain  and  sorrow 
for  his  unfeeling  interruption  of  their  sacred  adoration  ; 
for  all  around  was  dead  silence,  and  many  were  prostrated. 
Involuntarily  I bent  from  him  to  the  pavement,  and 
thought  secretly  on  the  words  of  St.  Paul  with  starting 
tears,  ‘They  discern  not  the  Lord’s  Body  ; ’ and  the  next 
thought  was,  how  should  they  eat  and  drink  their  own 
damnation  for  not  discerning  It,  if  indeed  It  is  not  there  ? ” 

Mrs.  Seton,  however,  was  not  yet  convinced  of  the  claims 
of  the  Catholic  Church  upon  her  obedience  ; and  on  the  3d 
of  February,  1804,  she  re-embarked  with  her  daughter 
Anna  for  their  native  country ; but  a storm  driving  back 
the  vessel,  and  the  child  being  suddenly  attacked  by  scar- 
let fever  they  were  once  more  welcomed  to  the  hospitable 
house  of  Mr  Anthony  Filicchi,  and  pressed  to  remain  there 
until  they  should  again  be  able  to  take  their  departure. 
After  Anna  had  recovered,  her  mother  was  seized  by  the 
same  illness  ; and  during  all  this  time  the  most  affectionate 
care  was  lavished  upon  them  by  their  Italian  friends. 
‘•Oh  the  patience,”  exclaims  Mrs.  Seton,  “and  more  than 
human  kindness  of  these  dear  Filicchis  for  us  ! you  would 
say  it  was  oar  Saviour  Himself  they  received  in  His  poor  and 
sick  strangers.” 

Thus  brought  again  within  the  influence  of  Catholic 
piety  and  charity,  Mrs.  Seton  availed  herself  of  every  oj3- 
portunity  of  becoming  better  acquainted  with  the  doc- 
trines of  that  faith  which  brought  forth  such  pleasant 


676 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


fruits ; and  every  day  felt  herself  more  powerfully  drawn 
towards  it.  “How  happy  we  should  be,”  she  writes  to  a 
friend,  “if  we  believed  what  these  dear  souls  believe — that 
they  possess  God  in  the  Sacrament,  and  that  He  remains  in 
their  churches,  and  is  carried  to  them  when  they  are  sick ! 
When  they  carry  the  Blessed  Sacrament  under  my  win* 
dow,  while  I feel  the  full  loneliness  and  sadness  of  my 
case,  I cannot  stop  my  tears  at  the  thought.  My  God, 
how  happy  I should  be,  now  so  far  away  from  all  so  dear, 
if  I could  find  You  in  the  church,  as  they  do  (for  there  is  a 
chapel  in  the  very  house  of  Mr.  Filicchi).  How  many 
things  I would  say  to  You  of  the  sorrows  of  my  heart,  and 
the  sins  of  my  life  ! The  other  day,  in  a moment  of  exces- 
sive distress,  I fell  on  my  knees,  without  thinking,  when 
the  Blessed  Sacrament  passed  by,  and  cried  in  an  agony  to 
God  to  bless  me,  if  He  was  there  ; that  my  whole  soul  de- 
sired only  Him. 

“A  little  prayer-book  of  Mr.  Filicchi’ s was  on  the  table, 
and  I opened  a little  prayer  of  St.  Bernard  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  begging  her  to  be  our  Mother ; and  I said  it  to  her 
with  such  a certainty  that  God  would  refuse  nothing  to 
His  Mother,  and  that  she  could  not  help  pitying  and  lov- 
ing the  poor  souls  He  died  for,  that  I felt  really  I had  a 
mother  ; which  you  know  my  foolish  heart  so  often  lamented 
in  early  days.  From  the  first  remembrance  of  infancy, 
I have  always  looked,  in  all  the  plays  of  childhood  and 
wildness  of  youth,  to  the  clouds  for  my  mother ; and  at 
that  moment  it  seemed  as  if  I had  found  more  than  her, 
even  in  tenderness  and  pity  of  a mother.  So  I cried  my- 
self to  sleep  on  her  heart.” 

At  another  time,  writing  to  the  same  relation,  she  thus 
shows  the  gradual  advance  of  her  mind  to  a knowledge  of 
the  truth:  “This  evening,  standing  by  the  window,  the 
moon  shining  full  on  Filicchi’ s countenance,  he  raised  his 
eyes  to  Heaven,  and  showed  me  how  to  make  the  sign  of 
the  cross.  Dearest  Rebecca,  I was  cold  with  the  awful  im- 
pression the  first  making  of  it  gave  me.  The  sign  of  the 
Cross  of  Christ  on  me ! Deeper  thoughts  came  with 


MOTREB,  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


677 


it  of  I know  not  what  earnest  desires  to  be  closely  united 
with  Him  who  died  on  it — of  that  last  day  when  He  is  to 
bear  it  in  triumph. 

“All  the  Catholic  religion  is  full  of  these  meanings,  which 
interest  me  so.  Why,  Rebecca,  they  believe  all  we  do  and 
suffer,  if  we  offer  it  for  our  sins,  serves  to  expiate  them. 
You  may  remember,  when  I asked  Mr.  Hobart  what  was 
meant  by  fasting  in  our  prayer-book,  as  I found  myself  on 
Ash- Wednesday  morning  saying  so  foolishly  to  God,  ‘I 
turn  to  you  in  fasting,  weeping,  and  mourning,’  and  I had 
come  to  church  with  a hearty  breakfast  of  buckwheat  cakes 
and  coffee,  and  full  of  life  and  spirits,  wdth  little  thought 
of  my  sins ; you  may  remember  what  he  said  about  its 
being  old  customs,  etc.  Well,  the  dear  Mrs.  Filicchi  I am 
with  never  eats,  this  season  of  Lent,  till  after  the  clock 
strikes  three.  Then  the  family  assemble,  and  she  says  she 
offers  her  weakness  and  pain  of  fasting  for  her  sins,  united 
with  her  Saviour’ s sufferings.  I like  that  very  much;  but 
what  I like  better,  dearest  Rebecca — only  think  what  a 
comfort — they  go  to  Mass  here  every  morning. 

“Ah  ! how  often  you  and  I used  to  give  the  sigh,  and 
you  would  press  your  arm  in  mine  of  a Sunday  morning, 
and  say,  ‘No  more  until  next  Sunday,’  as  we  turned  from 
the  church-door,  which  closed  upon  us  (unless  a prayer- 
day  was  given  out  in  the  week).  W ell,  here  they  go  to 
church  at  four  every  morning  if  they  please.  And  you 
know  how  we  were  laughed  at  for  running  from  one  church 
to  another  on  Sacrament  Sundays,  that  we  might  receive 
as  often  as  we  could  ; well,  here  people  that  love  God,  and 
lead  a regular  life,  can  go  (though  many  do  not  do  it,  yet 
they  can  go)  every  day.  Oh,  I don’t  know  how  any  one 
can  have  any  trouble  in  this  world,  who  believes  all  these 
dear  souls  believe.  If  I don’t  believe  it,  it  shall  not  be  for 
want  of  praying.  Why,  they  must  be  as  happy  as  angels, 
almost.” 

Such  was  the  lofty  and  just  appreciation  which  Mrs.  Se- 
ton  formed  of  Catholic  truth  ; and  would  that  all  Catholics 
set  so  high  a value  upon  these  blessed  privileges  of  their 


078 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SBTON. 


inheritance  as  did  this  good  soul,  to  whom  as  yet  they  had 
not  been  given ! 

During  the  latter  part  of  her  stay  in  Leghorn,  Mrs.  Se- 
ton  frequently  visited  the  sacred  places,  and,  joining  with 
devotion  in  the  services  of  the  Church,  would  pour  forth 
her  soul  in  prayer.  Indeed,  had  not  her  return  to  America 
been  hastened  as  much  as  possible  through  her  anxiety  to 
rejoin  her  bereaved  family  at  home,  she  would  probably 
have  renounced  Protestantism  before  leaving  Italy.  How- 
ever, the  delay,  although  it  entailed  severe  mental  conflict 
and  suffering  for  nearly  a year  afterwards,  served  only  to 
prove  still  more  triumphantly  the  power  of  the  faith  she 
had  received,  and  her  ovm  fidelity  to  the  graces  bestowed. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SEEKING  THE  TRUTH. 

Mrs.  Seton  returns  to  America — Mr.  A.  Filicehi — Rev. 
J.  H.  Hobart — Mental  Agony — Father  de  Cheverus 
— Light  at  last — Mrs.  Seton  enters  the  Church  of  Ages— 
Is  baptized  in  old  St.  Feter' s — Her  first  confession  and 
Communion. 

Leaving  with  tears  the  grave  of  her  beloved  husband, 
Mrs.  Seton  set  forth,  at  length,  on  the  8th  of  April,  with 
a heart  yearning  with  desire  after  her  children  at  home. 
Mr.  Anthony  Filicehi,  who  had  long  been  wishing  for  mat- 
ters of  business  to  visit  America,  was  decided  by  her  lonely 
situation  to  accompany  her  on  the  voyage.  This  was  the 
greatest  comfort  to  her;  for  the  friendship  between  them 
was  of  no  common  order. 

“The  8th  of  April,”  she  whites  in  her  journal,  “at  half- 
past  four  in  the  morning,  my  dearest  brother  came  to  my 
room  to  awaken  my  soul  to  all  its  dearest  hopes  and  ex- 
pectations. The  heaven  was  bright  with  stars,  the  wind 
fair,  and  the  Pianingd  s signal  expected  to  call  us  on 
board ; meanwhile  the  tolling  of  the  bell  called  us  to  Mass, 
and  in  a few  minutes  we  were  prostrate  in  the  presence  of 
God.  Oh,  my  soul,  how  solemn  was  that  offering — for  a 
blessing  on  our  voyage — for  my  dear  ones,  my  sisters,  and 
all  80  dear  to  me — and  more  than  all,  for  the  souls  of  my 
dear  husband  and  father ; earnestly  our  desires  ascended 
with  the  blessed  Sacrifice,  that  they  might  find  acceptance 
through  Him  who  gave  Himself  for  us ; earnestly  we  desired 
to  be  united  with  Him,  and  would  gladly  encounter  all 
the  sorrows  before  us  to  be  partakers  of  that  Blessed  Body 
and  Blood ! Oh  my  God,  pity  and  spare  me ! . . . 


680 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


“Filicchi’s  last  blessing  to  me  was  as  his  whole  conduct 
had  been — that  of  the  truest  friend.  Oh,  Filicchi,  you 
shall  not  witness  against  me.  May  God  bless  you  forever ; 
and  may  you  shine  as  the  ‘stars  in  glory,’  for  what  you 
have  done  for  me.  . . . Most  dear  Seton,  where  are  you 
now?  I lose  sight  of  the  shore  that  contains  your  dear 
ashes,  and  your  soul  is  in  that  region  of  immensity  where 
I cannot  find  you.  My  Father  and  my  God ! And  yet  I 
must  always  love  to  retrospect  Thy  wonderful  dispensations : 
to  be  sent  so  many  thousand  miles  on  so  hopeless  an  errand  : 
to  be  constantly  supported  and  accompanied  by  Thy  con- 
soling mercy  through  scenes  of  trial  which  nature  alone 
must  have  sunk  under ; to  be  brought  to  the  light  of  Thy 
truth,  notwithstanding  every  affection  of  my  heart  and 
power  of  my  will  was  opposed  to  it ; to  be  succored  and 
cherished  by  the  tenderest  friendship,  while  separated  and 
far  from  those  that  I loved.  My  Father  and  my  God, 
while  I live  let  me  praise,  while  I have  my  being  let  me 
serve  and  adore  Thee.” 

During  the  voyage,  which  lasted  fifty- six  days,  Mrs. 
Seton  employed  her  time  in  uniting  as  far  as  possible  with 
Mr.  A.  Filicchi  in  the  observances  of  the  Church,  in  read- 
ing the  lives  of  the  Saints,  and  in  acquainting  herself  still 
further  with  Catholic  doctrine  by  frequent  conversation 
with  her  friend.  She  had  need  of  strength  for  the  storm 
of  opposition  that  awaited  her;  and  her  heart  sank,  even 
in  the  midst  of  its  joyful  anticipations  at  returning  home, 
at  the  separation  that  her  religious  convictions  would  bring 
about  between  her  and  her  hitherto  deeply  reverenced  pas- 
tor, the  Rev.  J.  H.  Hobart.  She  says  in  her  journal,  look- 
ing forward  to  this,  “Still  if  you  will  not  be  my  brother, 
if  your  dear  friendship  and  esteem  must  be  the  price  of 
my  fidelity  to  what  I believe  to  be  the  truth,  I cannot 
doubt  the  mercy  of  God,  who,  by  depriving  me  of  my  dear- 
est tie  on  earth,  will  certainly  draw  me  nearer  to  Him  ; and 
this  I feel  confidently  from  the  experience  of  the  past,  and 
the  truth  of  His  promise,  which  can  never  fail.” 

Mrs.  Seton  had  the  happiness  of  finding  all  her  little 


MOTHER  ELIZABHTE  ANN  SETON 


681 

ones  in  health ; but  a severe  trial  awaited  her 

in  the  death  of  Miss  Rebecca  Seton,  her  sister-in-law 
and  most  dear  companion  and  friend,  who  only  survived 
a few  weeks  after  their  re-anion.  In  losing  her,  Mrs.  Seton 
seemed  to  lose  the  last  tie  that  bound  her  to  her  religious  life 
as  a Protestant.  Father,  husband,  friend,  and  worldly  pros- 
perity had  now  shifted  from  her  one  by  one ; but  the  death  of 
this  friend,  the  cherished  companion  of  all  her  visits  of  char- 
ity and  devotion,  of  her  prayers  and  readings,  and  the  sympa- 
thizing recipient  of  her  heart’s  most  inward  aspirations  after 
God,  must  have  broken  the  bond  that  was  most  likely  to 
have  held  her  soul  ensnared  to  all  its  old  associations  and 
prejudices. 

Mrs.  Seton  thus  speaks  of  her  sister-in-law : “She  who  had 
been  the  dear  companion  of  all  the  pains  and  all  the  comforts, 
of  songs  of  praise  and  notes  of  sorrow,  the  dear,  faithful,  ten- 
der friend  of  my  soul  through  ever}^  varied  scene  of  many 
years  of  trial,  gone ; only  the  shadow  remaining,  and  that  in  a 
few  days  must  pass  away ! The  hour  of  plenty  and  comfort, 
the  society  of  sisters  united  by  prayers  and  Divine  affec- 
tions, the  evening  hymns,  the  daily  readings,  the  sweet  con- 
templations, the  service  of  holydays  together,  the  kiss  of 
peace,  the  widows’  visits — all,  all  gone  forever!  And  is 
poverty  and  sorrow  the  only  exchange  ? My  husband,  my 
sister,  my  home,  my  comforts — poverty  and  sorrow.  Well, 
with  God’s  blessing,  you  too  shall  be  changed  into  dearest 
friends.  To  the  world  you  show  your  outward  garments ; 
but  through  them  you  discover  co  my  soul  the  palm  of  vic- 
tory, the  triumph  of  faith,  and  the  sweet  footsteps  of  my 
Redeemer,  leading  direct  to  His  kingdom;  then  let  me 
gently  meet  you,  be  received  in  your  bosom,  and  be  daily 
conducted  by  your  counsels  through  the  remainder  of  my 
destined  journey.  I know  that  many  Divine  graces  accom- 
pany your  faith,  and  change  the  stings  of  penance  for  ease 
of  conscience,  and  the  solitude  of  the  desert  for  the  society 
of  angels.” 

Mrs.  Seton  being  thus  fully  engaged  with  her  dying  sis- 
ter immediately  on  her  return  from  Italy,  could  not  help 


682 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


contrasting  painfully  the  difference  between  the  death-bed 
of  a Protestant  and  one  who  is  fortified  by  all  the  Sacra- 
ments of  the  Church.  Yet,  after  the  trial  was  over,  her  mind 
became  unutterably  harassed  by  doubts  and  temptations 
respecting  her  future  religious  profession.  On  leaving  Leg 
horn,  she  had  been  furnished  by  Mr.  Filicchi  with  a letter 
of  introduction  to  the  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Carroll,  Bishop  of 
Baltimore ; but  unfortunately,  this  letter  was  not  at 
once  delivered;  and,  following  the  well-meant  advice  of 
Mr.  Filicchi  to  acquaint  her  pastor  and  friends  with  her 
change  of  principles,  such  a storm  of  opposition  came  down 
upon  her,  that  for  a long  time  her  mind  was  divided  and  be- 
wildered, and  tempted  to  stray  back  altogether  from  the 
newly-found  path  of  truth. 

Mr.  Hobart,  in  particular,  whose  talents  and  religious 
zeal  were  very  great,  and  for  whom  her  own  great  partiality- 
pleaded  strongly,  left  no  argument  untried  that  could  be 
brought  to  bear  upon  the  subject.  And  though  constant 
personal  communication  with  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi  at  New 
York,  and  epistolary  correspondence  with  his  brother  at 
Leghorn,  kept  up  the  warfare  on  the  other  side,  yet  for 
many  months  she  could  not  see  her  way  clearly  to  renounce 
forever  the  creed  in  which  she  had  been  brought  up. 
But,  accustomed  as  she  was  almost  incessantly  to  lay  every 
trouble  before  God  and  implore  His  Divine  guidance,  the 
germ  of  faith  could  not  be  stifled  within  her ; and  perhaps 
it  became  only  more  firmly  rooted  during  this  time  of  suf- 
fering. The  brothers  Filicchi  were  unwearied  in  teaching, 
counseling,  and  confirming  her  wavering  mind.  Th© 
letters  of  Philip,  in  particular,  are  models  of  wisdom,  piety, 
and  charity ; and  as  the  letters  of  a layman  engaged  in 
active  mercantile  pursuits,  they  bear  the  marks  of  no  com- 
mon attainments.  He  much  regretted  that  Mrs.  Seton  had 
not  entered  the  Catholic  Church  whilst  in  Italy,  and  under 
the  full  force  of  convictions. 

Though  unable  to  act  decidedly,  Mrs.  Seton’ s mind  seemed 
still  more  unable  to  let  go  the  truths  it  had  already  em- 
braced. She  thus  describes  her  own  singular  state : “ On  ar- 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


683 


riving  at  home  (^from  Italy)  I was  assailed  on  the  subject  of 
religion  by  the  clergy,  who  talked  of  Anti-Christ,  idolatry; 
and  urged  objections  in  torrents;  which,  though  not  capa- 
ble of  changing  the  opinions  I had  adopted,  have  terrified 
me  enough  to  keep  me  in  a state  of  hesitation ; and  I am 
thus  in  the  hands  of  God,  praying  night  and  day  for  His 
Divine  light,  which  can  alone  direct  me  aright.  I instruct 
my  children  in  the  Catholic  religion,  without  taking  any 
decided  step  ; my  heart  is  in  that  faith,  and  it  is  my  great- 
est comfort  to  station  myself  in  imagination  in  a Catholic 
church.” 

The  coldness  of  many,  indeed  most  of  her  Protestant 
friends,  who  were  scandalized  at  her  venturing  to  enter- 
tain any  doubts  on  the  subject  of  religion,  was  a great 
trial  to  her  warm  and  still  bleeding  heart ; but  perhaps  a 
still  greater  temptation  for  her  lay  in  the  affectionate  ap- 
peals continually  made  to  her  by  Mr.  Hobart. 

The  very  fact  of  being  in  a state  of  doubt,  of  course, 
made  Mrs.  Seton  a sort  of  common  prey  for  proselytizers 
of  all  denominaHons,  which  she  herself  describes  in  a 
lively  manner.  “I  had,”  she  says,  “a  most  affectionate 
note  from  Mr.  Hobart  to-day,  asking  me  how  I could  ever 
think  of  leaving  the  Church  in  which  I was  baptized.  But, 
though  whatever  he  says  has  the  weight  of  my  partiality 
for  him,  as  well  as  the  respect  it  seems  to  me  i could 
scarcely  have  for  any  one  else,  yet  that  question  made  me 
smile  , for  it  is  like  saying  that  wherever  a child  is  born, 
and  wherever  its  parents  place  it,  there  it  will  find  the 
truth  ; and  he  does  not  hear  the  droll  invitations  made  me 
every  day  since  I am  in  my  little  new  home,  and  old  friends 
come  to  see  me  ; for  it  has  already  happened  that  one  of 
the  most  excellent  women  I ever  knew,  who  is  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland,  finding  me  unsettled  about  the  great 
object  of  a true  faith,  said  to  me : ‘ Oh,  do,  dear  soul,  come 
and  hear  our  J.  Mason,  and  I am  sure  you  will  join  us. 

“A  little  after  came  one  whom  I loved  for  the  purest  and 
most  innocent  manners,  of  the  Society  of  (Quakers  'to  which 
I have  been  always  attached) ; she  coaxed  me  too  with  art- 


684 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


less  persuasion : ‘ Betsey,  I tell  thee,  thee  had  better  come 
with  us.’  And  my  faithful  old  friend  of  the  Anabaptist 

meeting,  Mrs.  T , says,  with  tears  in  her  eyes,  ‘Oh, 

could  yon  be  regenerated  ; could  you  know  our  experiences, 
and  enjoy  with  us  our  heavenly  banquet.’  And  my  good 
old  Mary,  the  Methodist,  groans  and  contemiDlates,  as  she 
calls  it,  over  my  soul,  so  misled  because  I have  got  no  con- 
victions. But  oh,  my  Father  and  my  God  ! all  that  will 
not  do  for  me.  Your  word  is  truth,  and  without  contradic- 
tion, wherever  it  is.  One  faith,  one  hope,  one  baptism,  1 
look  for,  wherever  it  is ; and  I often  think  my  sins,  my 
miseries,  hide  the  light : yet  I will  cling  and  hold  to  my 
God  to  the  last  gasp,  begging  for  that  light , and  never 
change  until  I find  it.” 

Again  she  thus  writes  to  Mrs.  A.  Filicchi,  in  September : 
“Your  Antonio  would  not  even  have  been  will  pleased 
to  see  me  in  St.  Paul’s  (Protestant  Episcopal)  Church  to- 
day ; but  peace  and  persuasion  about  proprieties,  etc.,  over 
prevailed  : yet  I got  in  a side  pew,  which  turned  my  face 
towards  the  Catholic  church  in  the  next  street,  and  found 
myself  twenty  times  speaking  to  the  Blessed  Sacrament 
there,  instead  of  looking  at  the  naked  altar  where  I was,  or 
minding  the  routine  of  prayers.  Tears  plenty,  and  sighs 
as  silent  and  deep  as  when  I first  entered  your  blessed 
Church  of  the  Annunication  in  Florence — all  turning  to  the 
one  only  desire,  to  see  the  way  most  pleasing  to  my  God, 
whichever  that  way  is.  . . . 

“I  can  only  say,  I do  long  and  desire  to  worship  our 
God  in  truth ; and  if  I had  never  met  you  Catholics,  and 
yet  should  have  read  the  books  Mr.  Hobart  has  brought 
me,  they  would  have  in  themselves  brought  a thousand  un- 
certainties-and  doubts  to  my  mind;  and  these  soften  my 
heart  so  much  before  God,  in  the  certainty  how  much  He 
must  pity  me,  knowing  as  He  does  the  whole  and  sole  bent 
of  my  soul  is  to  please  Him  only,  and  get  close  to  Him  in 
this  life  and  in  the  next,  that  in  the  midnight  hour,  believe 
me,  1 often  look  up  at  the  walls  through  the  tears  and  dis- 
tress that  overpower  me,  expecting  rather  to  see  His  fin- 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


685 


ger  writing  on  the  wall  for  my  relief,  than  that  He  will 
forsake  or  abandon  so  poor  a creature.” 

Mrs.  Seton  made  one  final  effort  to  find  comfort  in  that 
form  of  worship  where  she  had  been  so  long  accustomed  to 
seek  it.  “Would  you  believe  it,  Amabilia,  in  a despera- 
tion of  heart  I went  last  Sunday  to  St.  George’s  (Protestant 
Episcopal)  Church  ; the  wants  and  necessities  of  my  soul 
were  so  pressing  that  I looked  straight  up  to  God,  and  I 
told  Him,  since  I cannot  see  the  w^ay  to  please  You,  whom 
alone  I wish  to  please,  everything  is  indifferent  to  me  ; and 
until  You  do  show  me  the  way  You  mean  me  to  walk  in,  I 
will  trudge  on  in  the  path  You  suffered  me  to  be  born  in, 
and  go  even  to  the  very  Sacrament  where  I once  used  to 
find  You. 

“So  aw’ay  I w-ent,  mj^  old  Mary  happy  to  take  care  of 
the  children  for  me  once  more  until  I came  back  ; but  if  1 
left  the  house  a Protestant,  I returned  to  it  a Catholic,  1 
think  ; since  I determined  to  go  no  more  to  the  Protestants, 
being  much  more  troubled  than  ever  I thought  ^ could  be 
whilst  I remembered  God  is  my  God.  But  -»c  it  was,  that 
in  the  bowing  of  my  heart  before  the  Bishop  to  >ec<;ive  his  ab- 
solution, which  is  given  publicly  and  u^ilversally  to  all  in  the 
Church,  I had  not  the  least  faith  i-d  his  prayers,  and  looked 
for  an  apostolic  loosing  from  sms,  which,  by  the  books 
Mr.  Hobart  had  given  me  co  read,  I find  they  do  not  claim  or 
admit ; thus  trembliug  I went  to  communion,  half  dead  with 
the  inward  struggle  ; when  they  said  ‘ the  body  and  blood 
of  Christ,’ — oh,  Amabilia,  no  words  can  express  my  trial. 

“1  took  the  Daily  Exercise  of  good  Abbe  Plunkett,  to 
read  the  prayers  after  Communion ; but  finding  every  word 
addressed  to  our  dear  Saviour  as  really  present,  I became 
half  crazy,  and  for  the  first  time  could  not  bear  the  sweet 
caresses  of  the  darlings,  nor  bless  their  little  dinner.  Oh. 
my  God,  that  day  ! but  it  finished  calmly  at  last,  abandon- 
ing all  to  God,  and  a renewed  confidence  in  the  Blessed 
Virgin  ; whose  mild  and  peaceful  look  reproached  my  bold 
excesses,  and  reminded  me  to  fix  my  heart  above  with  bet' 
ter  hopes.” 


686 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


So  tortured  was  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Seton  at  this  time,  that 
she  had  even  thought  in  despair  of  embracing  no  particular 
form  of  Christianity  until  the  hour  of  death ; but  taking 
up  a sermon  of  Bourdaloue  on  the  Feast  of  the  Epiphany, 
and  meeting  with  the  following  observations,  in  allusion  to 
the  inquiry  “ Where  is  He  who  is  born  King  of  the  Jews 
that  when  we  no  longer  discern  the  star  of  faith,  we  must 
seek  it  where  alone  it  is  to  be  found,  among  the  deposito- 
ries of  the  Divine  word,  the  pastors  of  the  Church,  she  was, 
by  the  blessing  of  God,  so  deeply  impressed  by  the  sugges- 
tion, that  she  immediately  turned  again  to  the  Catholic 
books  which  had  originally  so  forcibly  attracted  her  ; and 
being  unable  to  obtain  an  interview  with  the  priest  in  her 
own  neighborhood,  wrote  at  once  to  solicit  directions  from 
the  Rev.  John  Louis  de  Cheverus,'  of  Boston. 

In  vain  did  her  Protestant  friends  use  all  the  common  ar- 
guments to  deter  her.  Worldly  considerations  were  noth- 
ing to  her  where  her  soul  was  concerned.  ‘ ‘ The  Catholics 
of  New  York  were  represented  to  me,”  she  tells  a friend  at 
this  time,  “as  the  offscourings  of  the  people,”  and  the  con- 
gregation as  “a  public  nuisance;  but,”  she  adds,  “that 
troubles  not  me.  The  congregations  of  a city  may  be  very 
shabby,  yet  very  pleasing  to  God ; or  very  bad  people 
among  them,  yet  that  cannot  hurt  the  faith,  as  I take  it. 
And  should  the  priest  himself  deserve  no  more  respect  than 
is  here  allowed  him,  his  ministry  of  the  Sacraments  would 
be  the  same  to  me,  if  I ever  shall  receive  them.  I seek  but 
God  and  His  Church ; and  expect  to  find  my  peace  in  them, 
not  in  the  people.” 

Mrs.  Seton  then  put  herself  in  correspondence  with  Father 
Cheverus ; and  this  step  was  of  the  greatest  service  to  her. 
His  timely  counsels  and  the  wise  advice  of  Bishop  Carroll, 
at  length,  under  God,  dispelled  the  clouds  from  her  soul, 
and  determined  her  to  delay  no  longer  seeking  admission 
to  the  Catholic  Church.  These  are  her  own  words  on  mak- 
ing this  important  decision,  and  are  the  last  extract  we 


’ Afterwards  Cardinal.  He  died  ir  1836,  Archbishop  of  Bordeaux,  in  France. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


687 


shall  make  from  her  pen  as  a Protestant:  “Now,  they 
tell  me,  take  care  ; I am  a mother,  and  my  children  I must 
answer  for  in  judgment,  whatever  faith  I lead  them  to. 
That  being  so,  and  I so  unconscious,  for  I little  thought, 
till  told  by  Mr.  Hobart,  that  their  faith  could  be  so  full 
of  consequence  to  them  and  me,  I will  go  peacefully 
and  firmly  to  the  Catholic  Church ; for  if  faith  is  so  im- 
jjortant  to  our  salvation,  I will  seek  it  where  true  faith 
first  began  ; seek  it  amongst  those  who  received  it  from 
God  Himself. 

“The  controversies  I am  quite  incapable  of  deciding ; and 
as  the  strictest  Protestant  allows  salvation  to  a good  Catholic, 
to  the  Catholics  I will  go,  and  try  to  be  a good  one.  May 
God  accept  my  intentions  and  pity  me.  As  to  supposing 
the  word  of  our  Lord  has  failed,  and  that  He  suffered  His 
first  foundation  to  be  built  on  by  Anti-Christ,  I cannot  stop 
on  that  without  stopping  on  every  other  word  of  our  Lord, 
and  being  tempted  to  be  no  Christian  at  all ; for  if 
the  first  Church  became  Anti-Christ,  and  the  second 
holds  her  rights  from  it,  then  I should  be  afraid  both 
might  be  Anti-Christ,  and  I make  my  way  to  the  bot- 
tomless pit  by  following  either.  Come,  then,  my  little 
ones,  we  will  go  to  judgment  together,  and  present  our 
Lord  His  own  words ; and  if  He  says,  ‘You  fools,  I did  uot 
mean  that,’  we  will  say,  ‘Since  You  said  You  would  be  al- 
ways, even  to  the  end  of  ages,  with  this  Church  You  built 
with  Your  Blood,  if  You  ever  left  it,  it  is  Your  word  which 
misled  us  ; therefore,  please  to  pardon  Your  poor  fools,  for 
Your  own  word’s  sake.’  ” 

On  Ash-Wednesday  then,  March  14,  1805,  Mrs.  Seton 
presented  herself  for  acceptance  in  old  St.  Peter’ s Church, 
New  York  City.  “How  the  heart,”  she  says,  “died  away, 
as  it  were,  in  silence,  before  the  little  tabernacle  and  the 
large  crucifixion  over  it ! Ah,  my  God,  here  let  me  rest ; 
and  down  the  head  on  the  bosom,  and  the  knees  on  the 
bench. After  Mass  she  was  received  into  the  Church  by 
a venerable  Irish  priest,  the  Hev.  Matthew  O’Brien,  in  the 
presence  oi  her  most  true  friend,  Mr.  Anthony  Filicchi. 


688 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


What  his  feelings  must  have  been,  at  this  happy  termina- 
tion to  all  his  anxieties  on  her  account,  can  be  well  im- 
agined. Less  easily  hers  as  she  returned  home,  “light  at 
heart,  and  cool  of  head,  the  first  time  these  many  long 
months ; but  not  without  begging  our  Lord  to  wrap  my 
heart  deep  in  that  open  Side,  so  well  described  in  the  beau- 
tiful crucifixion ; or  lock  it  up  in  his  little  tabernacle,  where 
I shall  now  rest  forever.  Oh,  the  endearments  of  this  day 
with  the  children,  and  the  play  of  the  heart  with  God, 
while  keeping  up  their  little  farces  with  them.”  What  a 
contrast  to  the  torturing  anxieties  of  the  last  twelve  months  ; 
and,  in  particular,  to  the  trouble  and  disappointment  she 
experienced  in  partaking  of  the  Lord’s  Supper,  in  the  Prot- 
estant church,  when,  “for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  she 
could  not  bear  the  sweet  caresses  of  her  darling  children, 
nor  bless  their  dinner ! ” 

The  following  extracts  from  her  journal  of  this  time  all 
breathe  the  same  happy  spirit  of  peace  and  contentment : 
“So  delighted  now  to  prepare  for  this  good  confession, 
which,  bad  as  I am,  I would  be  ready  to  make  on  the  house- 
top, to  insure  the  good  absolution  I hope  for  after  it,  and 
then  to  set  out  a new  life,  a new  existence  itself : no  great 
difficulty  for  me  to  be  ready  for  it ; for  truly  my  life  has 
been  well  culled  over  in  bitterness  of  soul,  three  months  of 
sorrow  past.”  “It  is  done  easy  enough.  The  kindest  con- 
fessor is  this  Mr.  O’Brien,  with  the  compassion  and  yet 
firmness  in  this  work  of  mercy  which  I would  have  expected 
from  my  Lord  Himself.  Our  Lord  Himself  I saw  alone  in  him, 
both  in  his  and  my  part  in  this  venerable  Sacrament ; for, 
oh ! how  awful  those  words  of  unloosing  after  a thirty  years’ 
bondage.  I felt  as  if  my  chains  fell,  as  those  of  St.  Peter, 
at  the  touch  of  the  Divine  messenger.” 

“My  God!  what  new  scenes  for  my  soul!  Annuncia- 
tion Day  I shiill  be  made  one  with  Him  who  said,  ‘Unless 
you  eat  My  flesh  and  drink  My  blood,  you  can  have  no  part 
with  Me.’  I count  the  days  and  hours;  yet  a few  more  of 
hope  and  expectation,  and  then — How  bright  the  sun,  these 
morning  walks  of  preparation ! Deep  snow  or  smooth  ice, 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


689 


all  to  me  the  same — I see  nothing  but  the  little  bright  cross 
on  St.  Peter’s  steeple.’' 

MarcJi. — At  last,  God  is  mine,  and  I am  His.  Now 
let  all  go  its  round.  I have  received  Him.  The  awful  im- 
pressions of  the  evening  before,  Jesus,  of  not  having  done 
all  to  prepare ; and  yet  even  the  transports  of  confidence 
and  hope  in  His  goodness.  My  God ! to  the  last  breath  of 
life  will  I not  remember  this  night  of  watching  for  morning 
dawn,  the  fearful  beating  heart,  so  pressing  to  be  gone ; the 
long  walk  to  town,  but  every  step  counted  nearer  that 
street ; then  nearer  that  tabernacle ; then  nearer  the  mo- 
ment He  would  enter  the  poor,  poor  little  dwelling  so  all 
His  own.  And  when  He  did  the  first  thought  I remember 
was,  ‘ Let  God  arise,  let  his  enemies  be  scattered ; ’ for  it 
seemed  to  me  my  King  had  come  to  take  his  throne ; and 
instead  of  the  humble,  tender  welcome  I had  expected  to 
give  Him,  it  was  but  a triumph  of  joy  and  gladness,  that  the 
deliverer  was  come,  and  my  defence,  and  shield,  and  strength, 
and  salvation  made  mine  for  this  world  apd  the  next. 
Now,  then,  all  the  recesses  of  my  heart  found  their  tling, 
and  it  danced  with  more  fervor — no,  I must  not  say  that — 
but  perhaps  almost  with  as  much,  as  the  royal  psalmist  be- 
fore his  ark ; for  I was  far  richer  than  he,  and  more  hon- 
ored than  he  ever  could  be.  Now  the  point  is  for  the 
fruits.  So  far,  truly,  I feel  all  the  powers  of  my  soul  held 
fast  by  Him,  who  came  with  so  much  majesty  to  take  pos- 
session of  His  little  poor  kingdom.” 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ON"  THE  AVAT  OF  CHEISTIAN  PERFECTIOIT. 

Peace — Father  Cheverus — FiUcchi — Mrs.  Seton  opens  a 
boarding-house — Is  confirmed  by  Bishop  Carroll — 
Another  Convert — Persecutions — Itev.  W.  V Bubourg 
ana  his  plans — Mrs.  Seton  goes  to  Baltimore — Liberal- 
ity of  the  FiUcchi  brothers — Mr.  Cooper — The  Sisters 
of  St.  JoseplU^ — At  Emmittsbarg — St.  Joseph' s Valley. 

Behold  Mrs.  Seton.  then,  at  length  safely  housed  within 
the  ark  towards  which  her  soul  had  for  so  long  unconsciously 
yearned.  After  ail  the  difficulties  and  doubts  she  had  been 
passing  through,  she  was  well  prepared  to  rejoice  in  the 
possession  of  peace  on  which  she  had  now  entered ; not 
peace  undisturbed,  but  still  peace  that  could  not  be  removed. 
She  was  now,  as  she  herself  hastened  to  inform  Father 
de  Cheverus,  whose  advice  had  so  materially  aided  her  con 
version,  “a  poor  burdened  creature,  weighed  down  Avith 
sins  and  sorrows,  receiving  an  immediate  transition  to  life, 
liberty,  and  rest.'’ 

To  the  close  of  her  life  Mrs.  Seton  maintained  a corre- 
spondence with  this  most  worthy  priest , and  his  sympathy 
and  counsel,  with  that  of  Bishop  Carroll,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Matig- 
non,  and  other  distinguished  clergymen,  of  whom  it  was  re- 
marked that  “their  appearance,  their  deportment,  their 
learning,  are  acknowledged,  almost  with  enthusiasm,  bv 
most  of  the  Protestants  themselves,”  was  a powerful  sup- 
port to  her  under  the  new  trials  she  was  now  called  upon  to 
endure,  in  the  coldness,  or  rather  opposition,  of  many  of 
her  former  friends. 

At  that  time  it  was  considered  a degradation  to  embrace 
the  Catholic  Faith,  and  the  estrangement  of  her  family  on 
690 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


691 


this  account  left  Mrs.  Seton  to  meet  almost  alone  the  exi- 
gencies in  which  the  embarrassed  state  of  her  husband’s 
affairs  at  the  time  of  his  death  had  involved  her.  Had  she 
remained  a Protestant,  all  due  assistance  would  have  been 
given,  and  a large  fortune  might  have  been  hers  ; but  now, 
except  for  the  miiniticent  aid  ot  Mr.  Pilicchi,  she  was  left 
dependent  on  her  own  exertions.  Nothing  that  the  most 
generous  friendship  could  prompt  was  wanting  on  the  part 
of  this  noble  man.  He  would  gladly  have  provided  a house 
for  her  in  Italy ; and  his  agents  in  New  York  were  con- 
stantly directed  to  supply  her  with  whatever  money  she 
might  call  on  them  for ; and  her  two  sons,  one  nine  and  the 
other  seven  years  old,  were  placed  by  him  for  education  in 
Georgetown  College.  “ To  relieve  her  wants,”  he  told  her, 
‘‘was  the  pride  of  his  soul,  and  his  best  passport  for  his  last 
journey.” 

Mrs.  Seton,  however,  was  very  properly  anxious  to  exert 
herself  for  the  benefit  of  her  young  family  , and  she  therefore 
opened  a boarding-house  for  some  of  the  boys  who  attended 
a school  in  the  city.  Even  in  this  change  she  found  the 
highest  consolation,  knowing  that  it  was  brought  about  by 
her  obedience  to  the  will  of  God;  and,  after  attending 
Mass,  she  went  through  her  round  of  daily  duties  with  the 
greatest  cheerfulness  and  satisfaction.  She  still  kept  up 
the  practice  ot  committing  to  paper  the  secrets  of  her  heart ; 
and  it  is  difficult  to  select  from  this  treasury  of  devotion 
one  passage  more  worthy  than  another  of  shadowing  forth 
this  pure,  and  humble,  and  loving  heart.  Her  constant 
prayer  at  this  time  is,  that  the  lo^e  of  God  may  be 
supreme  within  her. 

“Imagining  the  corrupted  heart  in  Thy  hand,  it  begged 
Thee  with  all  its  strength  to  cut,  pare,  and  remove  from  it 
(whatever  anguish  it  must  undergo)  whatever  prevented 
the  entrance  of  Thy  love.  Again  it  repeats  the  supplica- 
tion, and  begs  it  as  Thy  greatest  mercy  ; cut  to  the  center, 
tear  up  every  root,  let  it  bleed,  let  it  suffer  anything, 
everything,  only  fit  it  for  Thyself,  place  only  Thy  love 
there,  and  let  humility  keep  sentinel ; and  what  shall  1 


69,2 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


fear  ? What  is  pain,  sorrow,  poverty,  reproach  ? Blessed 
Lord ! they  all  were  once  Thy  inmates.  Thy  chosen  com- 
panions ; and  can  I reject  them  as  enemies,  and  fly  from 
the  friends  You  send  to  bring  me  to  Your  kingdom?” 
Even  in  the  midst  of  the  petty  calls  upon  her  attention, 
which  were  now  incessant,  this  one  idea  was  ever  present 
within,  “AYho  can  bind  the  soul  which  God  sets  free?  It 
sprung  to  Him  fifty  times  an  hour  Scarcely  an  hour 
without  being  turned  to  Him  ; while  the  voice  and  eyes 
were  answering  down  below,  sweet ! sweet ! ” 

On  the  26th  ot  May,  1806,  Mrs.  Seton  was  confirmed  by 
Bishop  Carroll  in  St  Peter’s  Church,  New  York;  and 
soon  after  this  event  she  was  called  upon  to  part  from  her 
invaluable  friend,  Mr.  A Filicchi,  who  was  returning  to 
his  native  country  No  words  can  express  all  that  Mrs 
Seton  owed  to  this  gentleman,  who  had  left  his  own  family 
to  accompany  her  home  in  her  bereavement ; who  had 
placed  at  her  disposal  his  means,  his  time,  and  his  unfailing 
sympathy;  who  had  laboured  unceasingly  to  bring  her 
within  the  fold  of  the  true  Church,  and  under  the  bright 
example  of  whose  Christian  piety  and  charity  she  had  first 
learned  to  seek  after  this  saving  refuge.  Mrs  Seton  al- 
ways called  him  brother;  and  no  brother  could  have  been 
nearer  and  dearer  to  a sister’s  heart  than  he  was  to  hers 
Nor  was  it  without  deep  feeling  that  he  too  could,  bid 
farewell  to  one  to  whom  he  had  been  so  eminently  useful. 
We  read  that  he  considered  “the  interest  which  he  h d 
taken  in  the  welfare  of  her  and  her  family  as  the  secret  of 
the  many  favors  he  had  received  from  Heaven  " When 
on  his  way  home,  being  providentially  rescued  from  very 
imminent  danger  “on  the  dreadful  summit  of  Mount 
Cenis,”  he  thus  writes  to  Mrs.  Seton  • ' It  was  on  Monday 

night,  the  8th  of  December,  the  dry  of  the  festival  of  oui 
Blessed  Lady’s  Conception.  Early  in  that  morning,  they 
(the  other  passengers  in  the  diligence')  had  all  laughed  at 
my  going  to  Mass , but  tear  drew  afterwards  from  their 
lips,  against  their  will,  the  awful  acknowledgment  ol 
their  forsaken  principles  of  religion. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON  090 

“I  looked  immediately  to  you  as  my  princiijal  interces- 
sor ; and  you  must  have  had  certainly  a great  share  in  my 
deliverance.  What  wonder,  then,  in  my  readiness  to  be 
serviceable  to  you  ? Through  your  good  example  they  find 
me  now  a better  Christian  than  I was,  and  through  you  my 
mercantile  concerns  are  blessed  by  God  with  an  uninter- 
rupted success.  I shall  not,  therefore,  be  so  foolish  as  to 
desert  your  cause.  Pray  only  our  Divine  Redeemer  to  ex- 
tend His  mercy  towards  me  for  the  most  important  welfare 
in  our  next  life.  If  I have  been  happy  enough  to  be  the 
instrument  of  introducing  you  to  the  gates  of  the  true 
Church  of  Christ  here  below,  keep  me  fast  by  you  when 
called  up-stairs ; we  must  enter  together  into  heaven. 
Amen.” 

There  was  one  amongst  Mrs.  Seton’s  near  connections 
who  by  no  means  shared  in  the  general  feeling  of  hostility 
with  which  she  was  now  regarded.  This  was  Miss  Cecilia 
Seton,  her  youngest  sister-in-law.  Under  fourteen  years 
of  age,  beautiful,  devout,  and  most  warmly  attached  to 
her  proscribed  relative,  Mrs.  Seton  cherished  the  earnest 
hope  that  this  sister  might  one  day  be  partaker  of  the  true 
faith,  and  availed  herself  of  the  frequent  opportunities  af- 
forded by  a severe  illness  to  bring  the  subject  before  her 
young  patient. 

When  raised  from  her  sick-bed,  Miss  C.  Seton  devoted 
herself  unhesitatingly  to  find  out  the  truth,  and  finally  re- 
solved, in  spite  of  the  most  furious  opposition,  on  becoming 
a Catholic.  It  was  in  vain  that  every  means  were  em- 
ployed that  bigotry  and  misguided  zeal  could  suggest.  She 
was  threatened  with  all  sorts  of  possible  and  impossible 
evils,  and  even  kept  in  close  confinement  for  several  days ; 
but  the  grace  of  God  carried  her  unwavering  through  every 
opposition,  and  she  was  received  into  the  Church,  June 
20th,  1806. 

The  immediate  consequences  of  this  step  were  the  young 
lady’s  dismissal  from  home  without  the  least  provision, 
and  a positive  prohibition  to  enter  the  houses  of  any  of  her 
relations,  oi>to  associate  with  their  families.  The  youngest 


694 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


and  hitherto  the  favorite  at  home,  this  was  a severe  trial  to 
the  youthful  novice  ; but  she  was  welcomed  as  a gift  from 
God  by  Mrs.  Seton,  who  gladly  offered  her  a home. 

This,  however,  was  the  occasion  of  renewed  persecutions 
towards  Mrs  Seton,  and  many  who  had  hitherto  kept  up 
some  outward  resemblance  of  courtesy,  now  forbade  their 
children  to  hold  the  slightest  intercourse  with  her.  Even 
the  Protestant  Bishop  Moore  and  Mr.  Hobart,  her  former 
friends  and  pastors,  took  the  same  hostile  part,  and  warned 
all  who  had  hitherto  aided  her  in  her  establishment  to 
avoid  having  anything  to  do  with  so  dangerous  a person, 
xn  consequence  of  this  state  of  things,  her  circumstances  in 
a worldly  point  of  view  became  most  seriously  compromised; 
yet  still  her  soul  retained  its  peace,  and  her  mind  dwelt 
rather  on  the  consolations  received  from  Catholic  friends 
than  the  injuries  inflicted  by  others. 

“Upon  my  word,'’  she  writes  pleasantly  to  Mr.  A.  Fi- 
licchi,  “it  is  very  pleasant  to  have  the  name  of  being  per- 
secuted, and  yet  enjoy  the  sweetest  favors ; to  be  poor  and 
wretched,  and  yet  be  rich  and  happy ; neglected  and  for- 
saken, yet  cherished  and  tenderly  indulged  by  God’s  most 
favored  servants  and  friends  If  now  your  sister  did  not 
wear  her  most  cheerful  and  contented  countenance,  she 
would  be  indeed  a hypocrite.  ‘ Rejoice  in  the  Lord  always.’ 
Rejoice,  rejoice.” 

Living  under  the  same  roof  with  her  exemplary  sister-in- 
law,  Miss  Cecelia  Seton  followed  closely  in  her  footsteps, 
and  became  day  by  day  a brighter  and  purer  witness  of  the 
beauty  of  that  faith  she  had  embraced.  So  remarkably 
was  this  the  case,  that  she  soon  won  back  the  affection 
of  some  who  had  turned  from  her  in  such  blind  prejudice. 
For,  meeting  with  some  of  her  relations  at  the  deathbed  of 
a mutual  friend,  they  were  so  deeply  touched  by  the  sweet- 
ness and  piety  of  the  young  convert,  that  they  invited  her 
to  return  amongst  them. 

Mrs.  Seton,  however — certainly  from  no  deficiency  on  her 
own  part,  but  perhaps  as  being  considered  a more  danger- 
ous character — was  not  permitted  to  regain  the  favor  sha 


MOTHEE  ELIZABETH  AKN  SETOH. 


695 


had  lost.  But,  except  so  far  as  worldly  circumstances  were 
concerned — which  in  themselves  affected  her  not— this 
was  of  little  moment  to  her  ; for  she  was  now  increasingly 
occupied  with  her  children,  who  had  been,  of  course,  re- 
ceived with  her  into  the  Church  ; and  we  are  told,  “noth- 
ing can  surpass  the  admirable  tact  with  which  Mrs.  Seton 
conciliated  their  warm  affection,  and  directed  her  influence 
over  them  to  the  glory  of  God  and  their  personal  sanctifl- 
cation.”  The  following  little  letter,  written  to  her  eldest 
daughter,  then  ten  years  old,  is  a jAeasing  specimen  of  her 
affectionate  care  for  the  best  interests  ot  her  dear  children : 

“My  Darling  Daughter, — You  must  not  be  uneasy  at 
not  seeing  me  either  yesterday  or  to-dajL  To-morrow  I hope 
to  hold  you  to  my  heart,  which  prays  for  you  incessantly, 
that  God  may  give  you  grace  to  use  well  the  precious  hours 
of  this  week.  And  I repeat,  you  have  it  in  your  power  to 
make  me  the  happiest  of  mothers,  and  to  be  my  sweet 
comfort  through  every  sorrow,  or  to  occasion  the  heaviest 
afiliction  to  my  poor  soul  that  it  can  meet  with  in  this 
world.  And  as  your  example  will  have  the  greatest  influ- 
ence on  your  dear  little  sisters  also,  and  you  do  not  know 
how  soon  you  may  be  in  the  place  of  their  mother  to  them, 
your  doing  your  duty  faithfully  is  of  the  greatest  conse- 
quence, besides  what  you  owe  to  God  and  your  own  soul. 
Pray  Him,  supplicate  Him,  to  make  you  His  owm.  Re- 
member that  Mr.  Hurley  is  now  in  the  place  of  God  to  you. 
Receive  his  instructions  as  from  heaven  ; as  no  doubt  your 
dear  Saviour  has  appointed  them  as  the  means  of  bringing 
you  there.” 

Besides  placing  her  two  sons  in  Georgetown  College  with 
the  hope  of  their  going  ultimately  to  that  of  Montreal,  Mr. 
Anthony  Filicchi  had  encouraged  Mrs.  Seton  to  hope  that 
she  and  her  daughters  might  be  admitted  to  a convent  in 
the  same  place,  where  her  children  would  be  trained  care- 
fully in  the  principles  of  the  faith,  and  she  herself  employ 
her  talents  as  a teacher.  This  was  a prospect,  on  the 
thoughts  of  which  Mrs.  Seton  loved  to  indulge  : but  it  was 
brought  about  much  sooner  than  she  expected,  by  her  in- 


696 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANR  SETON. 


trodiiction  to  the  Rev.  William  Y.  Dubourg,  President  and 
Founder  of  St.  Mary’s  College  in  Baltimore. 

Even  before  he  became  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Seton,  he 
was  struck  by  her  unusual  fervor  of  devotion  during  an  ac- 
cidental visit  to  New  York,  where  he  celebrated  Mass ; and 
afterwards,  learning  her  wish  to  enter  some  conventual  es- 
tablishment with  her  children,  he  endeavored  to  turn  her 
thoughts  from  Canada,  and  induce  her  to  remain  in  the 
United  States  with  the  same  intention.  “Come  to  us,  Mrs. 
Seton,”  were  his  words  ; “we  will  assist  you  in  forming  a 
plan  of  life  which,  while  it  will  forward  your  views  of  con- 
tributing to  the  support  of  your  children,  will  shelter  them 
from  the  dangers  to  which  they  are  exposed  among  their 
Protestant  connections,  and  also  afford  you  much  more 
consolation  in  the  exercise  of  your  faith  than  you  have  yet 
enjoyed.  We  also  wish  to  form  a small  school,  for  the  pro- 
motion of  religious  instruction,  for  those  children  whose 
parents  are  interested  in  that  point.” 

“You  may  be  sure,”  says  Mrs.  Seton,  “I  objected  only 
want  of  talents ; to  which  he  replied,  ‘ We  want  example 
more  than  talents.’  ” Father  Dubourg,  who  was  a man  of 
singular  enterprise  and  penetration,  had  immediately  seen 
that  Mrs.  Seton  was  capable  of  serving  the  cause  of  re- 
ligion in  no  ordinary  degree ; and  though  her  own  humble  es- 
timate of  herself  made  her  wonder  at  the  prospect  opening 
before  her,  yet  it  was  so  congenial  to  her  highest  wishes, 
and  offered  so  many  advantages  for  her  beloved  children 
(for  Father  Dubourg  had  proposed  receiving  her  two  sons, 
free  of  expense,  within  St.  Mary’s  College),  that  she  did 
not  hesitate  to  lay  the  matter  at  once  before  Bishop  Car- 
roll,  Dr.  Matignon,  and  Father  Cheverus,  as  friends  and 
counselors  without  whose  advice  she  dared  not  act.  They 
were  unanimously  in  favor  of  the  scheme,  and  Dr.  Matig- 
non said,  almost  in  the  spirit  of  prophecy,  when  alluding 
to  her  former  idea  of  going  to  Canada,  “ You  are  des- 
tined, I thinlc,  for  some  great  good  in  the  United  StateSy 
?ind  here  you  should  remain  in  preference  to  any  other  lo- 
cation.” 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


697 


Other  circumstances  at  this  time  contributed  to  determine 
Mrs.  Seton  to  enter  upon  this  new  sphere  of  action ; she 
could  not  realize  enough  for  the  maintenance  of  her  family 
from  the  boarding-house  she  had  undertaken,  nor  was  the 
society  of  the  boys  at  all  beneficial  to  her  own  children. 
Her  Protestant  friends  also  highly  approved  of  the  Balti- 
more scheme,  observing  that  it  was  an  excellent  project, 
because  “ her  principles  excluded  her  from  the  confidence 
of  the  inhabitants  of  New  York.”  Mrs.  Seton  therefore 
resolved  on  leaving  her  native  city  ; and  her  sister-in-law. 
Miss  C.  Seton,  determined  on  accompanying  her. 

Father  Dubourg’s  plan  was  that  they  should  take  a small 
house,  where,  with  her  own  family  and  a few  boarders,  she 
might  begin  the  work  of  general  education  “ in  subservi 
ence  to  pious  instruction  with  the  hope  that  in  time,  if 
it  was  God’s  will  to  prosper  the  undertaking  and  give  her 
and  her  companion  “a  relish  for  their  functions,”  it 
might  be  gradually  consolidated  into  a x)ermanent  institu- 
tion. 

On  the  9th  of  J une,  1808,  Mrs.  Seton  embarked  with  her 
three  daughters  for  Baltimore ; and  her  two  sons  being 
brought  from  Georgetown,  to  be  under  Father  Dubourg  s 
care  at  St.  Mary’s  College,  she  had  once  more  all  her  chil- 
dren under  her  own  immediate  superintendence.  This  was 
no  slight  alleviation  to  the  feelings  that  must  have  been 
n wakened  in  her  heart  by  finding  herself  thrust  out,  as  it 
were,  and  unregretted,  from  her  native  city,  and  the  com- 
panionship of  her  own  family  and  all  the  friends  of  her 
early  life.  She  was  going  to  a new  scene  and  sphere  of 
action,  amongst  strangers;  and  that  society  of  which  she 
had  been  for  so  long  the  cherished  ornament,  now  Driumphed 
over  her  departure. 

Yet  the  only  reflections  which  her  unfailing  confidence 
in  God  inspired,  on  the  eve  of  her  arrival  at  Baltimore,  were 
expressed  in  the  following  words:  “To-morrow  do  I go 
among  strangers  ? N o.  Has  an  anxious  thought  or  fear  passed 
my  mind  < No.  • Can  I be  disappointed  ? No.  Our  sweet  sac 
rifice  will  re-unite  my  soul  with  all  who  offer  it.  Doubt 


698 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANH  SETON. 


and  fear  will  fly  from  the  breast  inhabited  by  Him.  Therf 
can  be  no  disappointment,  where  the  soul’s  only  desire  and 
expectation  is  to  meet  His  adored  will  and  fulfil  it.” 

Mrs.  Seton  reached  Baltimore  on  the  Feast  of  Corpus 
Christi ; and  in  the  services  of  that  day,  and  the  affection- 
ate greeting  which  followed,  from  a large  circle  of  new 
friends  Plready  prepared  to  love  her,  she  lost  at  once  all 
sense  of  loneliness. 

Colonel  Howard,  amongst  others  who  soon  after  called  to 
welcome  her  amongst  them,  a very  wealthy  man,  and  ac- 
quainted with  her  family,  pressed  her  earnestly  to  take  up 
her  abode  in  his  own  spacious  house  and  allow  him  to  bring 
up  her  children  with  his  own.  This  generous  proposal  was 
fully  appreciated,  but  of  course  declined ; for,  as  she 
assured  Colonel  Howard,  she  “had  not  left  the  world  for 
the  purpose  of  entering  it  again.” 

It  is  scarcely  necessar}^  to  say,  that  Mrs.  Seton  had  not 
left  New  York  without  informing  the  Messrs.  Filicchi  of 
her  intended  plans.  And  as  soon  as  she  was  settled  in  her 
new  home,  and  the  design  which  Father  Dubourg  had  in 
proposing  her  removal  was  a little  matured,  she  wrote 
again,  frankly  asking  what  amount  of  aid  she  might  hope 
to  receive  from  them,  in  the  event  of  its  being  advisable  to 
provide  by  building,  etc.,  for  a permanent  institution. 

Her  generous  friend,  Antonio,  who  was  at  this  time  con- 
tributing largely  to  her  own  support,  responded  gladly  to 
this  new  appeal,  bidding  her  draw  at  once  on  his  agents 
for  one  thousand  dollars  or  more  if  needful ; adding, 
“your  prayers  had  so  much  bettered  our  mercantile  im- 
portance here  below,  that  in  spite  of  all  the  embargoes, 
political  and  commercial  troubles,  which  have  caused  and 
will  cause  the  utter  ruin  of  many,  we  possess  greater  means 
now  than  before,  thanks  to  God,  with  the  same  unalterable 
good  will.”  This  plan,  however,  was  not  destined  to  be 
carried  out ; at  least,  not  in  the  way  which  was  then  con- 
templated. 

Mrs.  Seton’ s view  was  to  begin  by  opening  a boarding- 
school  for  young  ladies,  leaving  to  time  and  the  will  of  God 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  SETON 


690 


that  which  she  had  already  very  earnestly  at  heart,  the 
formation  of  a society  specially  consecrated  to  religion. 
She  had  no  difficulty  in  obtaining  the  required  number  of 
pupils ; and  as  they  lived  literally  beneath  the  shadow  of 
the  Church,  and  she  enjoyed  at  this  time  singular  religious 
privileges,  and  the  frequent  society  of  many  distinguished 
clergymen,  particularly  of  Bishop  Carroll,  she  writes  in  a 
transport  of  joy  at  the  blessing  of  her  lot : “Every  morning 
at  Communion,  living  in  the  very  wounds  of  our  dearest 
Lord,  seeing  only  his  representatives,  and  receiving  their 
benedictions  continually.” 

It  was  her  only  wish  that  her  young  sister-in-law.  Miss 
Cecilia  Seton,  would  join  her.  But  it  had  been  thought  ad- 
visable that  this  lady  should  remain  for  the  present  in  New 
York,  with  a brother  upon  whom  she  was  entirely  depend- 
ent. Left  in  the  midst  of  those  who  had  been  so  hostile  to 
her  change  of  religion,  she  had  many  trials  to  endure ; but 
by  unflinching  firmness,  and  the  strictest  perseverance  in 
attending  all  her  religious  duties,  she  became  daily  a more 
fervent  Catholic,  and  cherished  the  hope  of  one  day  devot- 
ing herself  in  a special  manner  to  the  service  of  God. 

Another  sister,  Harriet,  who  was  also  warmly  attached 
to  Mrs.  Seton,  had  inexpressible  longings  to  fly  to  that 
happy  retirement  which  she  so  eloquently  painted  in  her 
letters  from  Baltimore.  This  lady  was  “ the  belle  of  New 
York,”  living  in  the  midst  of  fashionable  society,  engaged 
to  a step-brother  of  Mrs.  Seton’ s (of  course  a Protestant) , 
and,  on  account  of  some  preference  she  had  already  shown 
for  the  Catholic  faith,  was  closely  watched  by  her  family 
In  a letter  to  her  sister-in-law,  she  writes  thus-  “Where 
is  it  you  could  go,  ray  beloved  sister,  without  meeting  with 
kindness  and  affection  ? They  must,  indeed,  be  unenvia- 
ble beings,  who  know  you  without  loving  you.  Your  de- 
scription is  delightful.  Every  thought,  every  hope,  flies 
towards  the  happy  spot  you  have  pictured.  Oh,  that  I may 
one  day  be  there,  but  not  in  my  present  state,  to  be  happy  ! 
Let  me  enjoy  the  precious  privilege  of  serving  God  in  your 
blessed  faith.  What  comfort  can  I hare  in  my  own,  when 


700 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  8ET0N. 


I know  there  is  a better  ? Dearest  sister,  pray  lor  me  al- 
ways ; never  forget  me  when  in  the  chapel.  Recollect,  at 
sunset,  I shall  always  meet  you  at  the  foot  of  the  cross  in 
the  Miserere.  What  a sweet  remembrance  ! ” 

Presently  we  shall  have  to  return  to  these  ladies  ; but  first 
it  is  necessary  that  we  should  relate  the  circumstances 
which  led  to  the  removal  of  Mrs.  Seton  from  Baltimore 
after  a sojourn  of  only  a few  months,  and  brought  about 
the  fulfillment  of  her  pious  intentions  in  a manner  she  her- 
self had  never  ventured  to  hope  for. 

In  the  autumn  of  1808,  a young  lady,  seeking  retirement 
from  the  world,  had  made  up  her  mind  for  this  purj)ose  to 
go  to  some  foreign  conventual  establishment ; but  hearing 
of  Mrs.  Seton’ s plans  and  wishes,  came  gladly  to  Balti- 
more, and  was  there  offered  by  her  father  “as  a child  whom 
he  consecrated  to  God.”  She  became  for  the  present  an 
assistant  in  the  school ; but  on  the  arrival  of  this  first  com- 
panion, Father  Babade,  then  her  spiritual  director,  encour- 
aged Mrs.  Seton  to  discern  the  "announcement  of  an  under- 
taking which  would  gradually  collect  round  her  a numer- 
ous band  of  spiritual  daughters.”  The  time  for  this  was 
indeed  already  come. 

One  morning,  after  Holy  Communion,  she  felt  an  extra- 
ordinary impulse  to  devote  herself  to  the  care  of  poor  fe- 
male children,  and  to  found  for  their  benefit  some  abiding 
institution.  Going  at  once  to  Father  Dubourg,  she  said, 
“This  morning  in  my  dear  Communion,  I thought.  Dearest 
Saviour,  if  You  would  but  give  me  the  care  of  poor  little 
children,  no  matter  how  poor ; and  Mr.  Cooper  being  di- 
rectly before  me  at  his  thanksgiving,  I thought,  He  has 
money  ; if  he  would  but  give  it  for  the  bringing  up  of  poor 
little  children,  to  know  and  love  You.” 

Mr.  Cooper  was  a convert,  a student  at  St.  Mary’s  for 
the  priesthood,  and  anxious  to  devote  his  property  to  the 
service  of  God.  On  hearing  Mrs.  Seton’ s words,  Father 
Dubourg  seemed  lost  in  astonishment,  and  told  her  that 
Mr.  Cooper  had  spoken  to  him  that  very  morning  of  his 
thoughts  being  all  for  poor  children’s  instruction,  and  that 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  8ET0N. 


701 


if  he  could  find  somebody  to  do  it,  he  would  give  his  money 
for  that  purpose ; and  he  wondered  if  Mrs.  Seton  would 
be  willing  to  undertake  it.  Struck  with  the  wonderful 
coincidence,  the  priest  advised  each  to  reflect  for  a month 
on  the  subject,  and  acquaint  him  with  the  result.  During 
this  time  there  was  no  communication  between  the  parties  ; 
nevertheless,  they  returned  at  the  appointed  time,  offering, 
the  one  his  means,  and  the  other  her  services,  for  the  re- 
lief of  Christ’s  poor. 

The  clergy  consulted  on  the  occasion  could  not  but  ap- 
prove of  an  intention  so  plainly  in  the  ordering  of  God, 
and  the  site  of  Emmittsburg,  Maryland,  was  fixed  upon 
as  affording  moral  and  physical  advantages  fora  relig- 
ious community,  being  far  from  the  city  and  in  the  midst 
of  wild  mountain  scenery.” 

The  prospect  now  opening  before  Mrs.  Seton  was  hailed 
with  delight  by  all  who  knew  her  remarkable  fitness  for 
the  work.  Amongst  others,  her  esteemed  friend.  Father 
John  Louis  de  Cheverus  writes,  almost  in  the  language  of 
prophecy:  “How  admirable  is  Divine  Providence!  I see 
already  numerous  choirs  of  virgins  following  you  to  the 
altar.  I see  your  holy  order  diffusing  itself  in  the  dif- 
ferent parts  of  the  United  States,  spreading  everywhere 
the  good  odor  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  teaching  by  their  an- 
gelical lives  and  pious  instructions  how  to  serve  God  in 
purity  and  holiness.  I have  no  doubt,  my  beloved  and 
venerable  sister,  that  He  who  has  begun  this  work  will 
bring  it  to  perfection.” 

The  title  of  Mother  was  already  gladly  given  everywhere 
to  Mrs.  Seton  ; and  one  lady  after  another  came  gathering 
around  her,  in  fervor  and  humility  offering  themselves  as 
candidates  for  the  new  sisterhood.  A conventual  habit  was 
adopted  (which  was  afterwards  changed  to  that  worn  by  the 
Sisters  of  Charity),  and  under  the  title  of  “Sisters  of  St. 
Joseph,”  a little  band  was  organized  under  temporary 
rules. 

The  humble  soul  of  Mother  Seton,  as  she  must  now  be 
called,  was  filled  with  such  an  overwhelming  sense  of  the 


702 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


responsibility  committed  to  her,  that  on  the  evening  of  the 
day  she  received  it  as  i.  charge  from  her  spiritual  directors, 
she  sunk  weeping  bitterly  upon  her  knees  ; and  after  giv- 
ing way  to  her  emotions  foi  some  time,  she  confessed  aloud 
before  the  sisters  who  were  present  the  most  frail  and  hu- 
miliating actions  of  her  life,  ’om  her  childhood  upwards, 
and  then  exclaimed  from  th^  depths  of  her  heart,  “My 
gracious  God ! You  know  my  unfitness  for  this  task  ; I, 
who  by  my  sins  have  so  often  crucified  You : I blush 
with  shame  and  confusion  ! How  can  I teach  others,  who 
know  so  little  myself,  and  am  so  miserable  and  imper- 
fect?” 

Mrs.  Seton  bound  herself  privately  at  this  time,  in  the 
presence  of  the  venerable  Bishop  Carroll,  by  the  usual 
vows,  for  a year  ; and  soon  afterwards  she  was  joined  by 
one  who  had  long  waited  patiently  until  the  vrill  of  God 
should  permit  her  to  follow  where  her  heart  had  already 
gone  before.  Miss  C.  Seton,  falling  dangerously  ill,  was 
advised  by  her  physician  to  try  a sea  voyage  as  a last  rem- 
edy, and  thankfully  determined  to  visit  Mother  Seton.  She 
was  accompanied  by  her  sister  Harriet,  two  brothers,  and 
a servant.  Contrary  to  all  expectation,  her  health  gradu- 
ally began  to  improve,  and  on  reaching  Baltimore  her  at- 
tendants left  her,  with  the  exception  of  her  sister  Harriet, 
who  stayed  to  take  care  of  her. 

The  illness  again  proving  serious,  change  of  air  was  once 
more  advised,  and  Mother  Seton  then  removed  with  the  in- 
valid to  the  site  of  her  intended  residence  at  Emmittsbuig. 
Miss  H.  Seton  of  course  accompanied  them,  with  some  of 
the  community  and  Mother  Seton’s  children.  As  no  habi- 
tation was  yet  ready  for  the  sisterhood,  they  were  allowed 
by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois,  President  of  Mount  St.  Mary's 
College'  (to  which  Mrs.  Seton’s  sons  had  already  been  re- 
moved from  Baltimore),  to  occupy  a small  log-house  on 
the  mountain.  Here  Miss  C.  Seton  soon  recovered  some 
degree  of  health,  and  here  her  sister  was  strengthened  to 


’ At  Emmitteburg. 


MJJTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


703 


say,  spite  of  all  the  persecution  which  she  well  knew  such 
a step  would  entail  from  her  own  family,  and  although  she 
was  uncertain  what  effect  it  might  have  upon  him  to  whom 
she  was  engaged,  “It  is  done,  my  sister  ; I am  a Catholic. 
The  cross  of  our  dearest  Lord  is  the  desire  of  my  soul ; I 
will  never  rest  till  He  is  mine.” 

At  the  end  of  July,  Mother  Seton  and  the  whole  of  her 
community,  now  ten  in  number,  besides  her  three  daugh- 
ters and  her  sister-in-law,  removed  to  the  little  farm-house 
on  their  own  land  in  St.  Joseph’s  Valley,  which  was  to  be 
their  present  home.  It  was  much  too  small  to  be  considered 
anything  but  a temporary  refuge,  containing  only  three  or 
four  rooms,  and  “a  little  closet  just  wide  enough  to  hold 
an  altar,”  whei'e  the  presence  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament 
made  up  for  every  privation  ; and  a more  commodious  and 
ample  building  was  being  prejDared  at  once,  as  rapidly  as 
circumstances  would  admit. 

Meanwhile,  in  accordance  with  the  institute  of  the  Sisters 
of  Charity,  with  which  this  was  intended  to  conform,  in- 
struction of  youth  and  care  of  the  sick  occupied  the  greater 
part  of  the  Sisters’  time ; and  as  it  happened  that  a fever 
was  just  now  breaking  out  in  the  neighborhood,  they  re- 
ceived many  petitions  to  come  and  tend  those  who  were 
attacked  by  it.  Full  of  zeal  and  piety,  they  cheerfully  lent 
themselves  to  this  good  work,  and  gave  the  greatest  edifi- 
cation wherever  they  went. 

They  were  very  poor,  circumstances  not  yet  allowing  them 
to  open  a school ; but  all  were  so  anxious  to  devote  themselves 
to  a life  of  mortification  that  Mother  Seton  says,  “carrot 
coffee,  salt  pork,  and  buttermilk  seemed  too  good  a living.” 
The  expenses  of  building  reduced  them  to  a still  more  desti- 
tute condition  ; their  bread  was  of  the  coarsest  rye,  and  for 
many  months  they  “did  not  know  where  the  next  meal 
would  come  from.”  On  Christmas  Day  they  rejoiced  to 
have  “some  smoked  herrings  for  dinner,  and  a spoonful  of 
molasses  for  each.”  Yet  the  most  perfect  cheerfulness  and 
harmony  prevailed ; they  were  literally  all  of  one  mind. 

About  the  end  of  September,  Miss  H.  Seton  was  received 


704 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANH  SETON. 


into  the  Church.  As  was  expected,  a torrent  of  reproaches 
from  home  followed  this  announcement ; but  nothing  could 
now  prevent  the  holy  fervor  of  this  young  convert ; and  rejoic- 
ing to  suffer  the  loss  of  all  things,  even,  if  need  were,  the  love 
of  him  CO  whom  her  hand  was  promised,  she  still  pleaded 
for  an  extension  of  her  stay  in  St.  Joseph’s  Valley.  Here, 
while  nursing  her  sick  sister,  she  was  herself  seized  with  a 
violent  fever ; and  within  three  months  of  her  conversion, 
her  remains  were  carried  to  a spot  she  had  once  playfully 
chosen  as  a last  resting-place  in  the  silent  woods,  and 
laid  beneath  the  tree  she  had  pointed  out.  Thus,  although 
the  last  called,  she  became  “the  first-fruits  of  those  who 
sleep  in  St.  Joseph’s  Valley.” 

The  death-bed  of  this  pious  and  beautiful  young  lady 
was  never  forgotten  by  those  who  had  the  happiness  to  as- 
sist at  it.  Amidst  the  most  intense  sufferings,  the  names 
of  God,  Heaven,  or  eternity  instantly  fixed  her  attention, 
insensible  to  every  other  address.  Her  devotion  to  the 
Blessed  Sacrament  had  been  remarkable,  and  even  in  de- 
lirium the  same  Divine  object  absorbed  all  her  mind ; her 
last  sign  of  life  was  an  effort  to  join  the  hymn  at  Benedic- 
tion. It  was  impossible  for  her  best  friends  not  to  rejoice 
that  she  was  thus  spared  the  sufferings  and  temptations 
that  would  have  assailed  her  had  she  lived  to  return  to  New 
York.  Far  different,  however,  was  the  effect  of  her  death 
upon  her  relations  there ; and  when  after  four  months  more 
her  sister  Cecilia  was  also  laid  in  that  same  little  enclosure, 
planted  with  wild  flowers,  their  indignation  against  this 
“pest  of  society”  knew  no  bounds,  even  in  its  piiblic  ex- 
pression. But  all  this,  as  Mother  Seton  herself  observed, 
was  music  to  the  spirit  hoping  only  to  be  conformed  to  Him 
who  was  despised  and  rejected  by  men.” 

Two  months  before  Miss  C.  Seton’ s death,  the  community 
were  established  in  their  new  dwelling,  a large  log-house 
two  stories  high,  with  a sanctuary,  sacristy,  and  an  apart- 
ment where  strangers  could  assist  at  Mass,  facing  one  end 
of  the  sanctuary.  The  choir  where  the  community  heard 
Mass,  etc.,  was  in  front  of  the  altar.  So  poor  was  the  altar, 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


705 


that  its  chief  ornaments  were  a framed  portrait  of  onr 
dear  Redeemer,  which  Mother  Seton  had  brought  with  her 
from  New  York,  her  own  little  silver  candlesticks,  some 
wild  laurel,  paper  flowers,  etc. 

After  placing  themselves  solemnly  under  the  patronage  of 
St.  Joseph,  the  sisterhood  commenced  their  labors  on  a 
much  more  extensive  scale.  They  now  opened  a day  and 
boarding-school,  and  in  May,  1810,  Mother  Seton  thus 
alludes  to  the  condition  of  the  house:  “You  know  the 
enemy  of  all  good-will  of  course  makes  his  endeavors  to 
destroy  it;  but  it  seems  our  Adored  is  determined  on  its 
full  success,  by  the  excellent  subjects  He  has  placed  in  it. 
We  are  now  twelve  and  as  many  again  are  waiting  for 
admission.  I have  a very,  very  large  school  to  superintend 
every  day,  and  the  entire  charge  of  the  religious  instruction 
of  all  the  country  round.  All  apply  to  the  Sisters  of  Char- 
ity, who  are  night  and  day  devoted  to  the  sick  and  the 
ignorant.  Our  blessed  Bishop  intends  removing  a detach- 
ment of  us  to  Baltimore,  to  perform  the  same  duties  there. 
We  have  a very  good  house,  though  a log  building ; and  it 
will  be  the  mother-house  and  retreat  in  all  cases,  as  a por- 
tion of  the  sisterhood  will  always  remain  it,  to  keep  the 
spinning,  weaving,  knitting,  and  school  for  country  people, 
regularly  progressing.” 

The  income  derived  from  the  school  and  donations  from 
friends  now  kept  the  house  free  from  einbarrassment,  and 
in  any  case  of  emergency  the  generosity  of  the  brothers 
Filicchi  was  unfailing.  The  following  extract  from  a letter 
of  Mother  Seton’ s on  an  occasion  of  this  kind,  and  the  an- 
swer she  received,  will  show  the  spirit  of  frankness  and 
Christian  confidence  which  prevailed  between  them  : “ Does 
it  hurt  you  that  I press  so  hard  on  you,  and  make  no  fur- 
ther application  to  my  friends  in  New  York?  Consider, 
how  can  I apply  to  them  for  means  which  would  go  to  the 
support  only  of  a religion  and  institution  they  abhor  ; while 
what  is  taken  from  you  is  promoting  your  greatest  happi- 
ness in  this  world,  and  bringing  you  nearer  and  nearer  to 
the  Adored  in  the  next.  But  again  let  me  repeat,  if  I have 


706 


MOTHER  ELIZAimrn  ANN  SETON. 


gone  too  far,  stop  me  short  fc^rever,  if  yon  find  it  necessary, 
without  fear  of  the  least  wound  to  the  soul  you  love  ; which 
receives  all  from  your  hands  as  from  that  of  our  Lord,  and 
whenever  they  may  be  closed,  will  know  that  it  is  He  who 
shuts  them,  who  uses  all  for  His  own  glory  as  He  pleases. 

“ I do  not  write  to  Philip  now,  as  this  letter  will  serve  to 
say  all  to  both,  except  the  fervency  and  attachment  of  my 
very  soul  to  you  both  in  Christ.  May  He  be  blessed  and 
praised  forever.  How  great  that  attachment  is,  and  with 
how  much  reason,  can  only  be  known  by  one  who  once  was 
what  I have  been,  and  can  conceive  what  the  contrast  of 
past  and  present  is.  This  iS  understood  by  Him  above  who 
gave  you  to  me  and  us  to  you,  for  which,  I trust,  we  will 
love,  praise,  and  adore  through  eternity.'’  “Chase  your 
diffidence  away,”  replies  Mr.  A.  Filicchi;  “speak  to  your 
brother  the  wants  of  a sister,  and  trust  in  Him  who  knows 
how  to  clothe  and  feed  the  birds  of  the  air,  and  clothes  thtf) 
grass  of  the  earth  with  brightness.” 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  KEW  KELIGIOUS  SOCIETY. 

Rules  adopted — Mother  Seton' s daughter  Anna — Her  many 
virtues — death — A Mother's  tears — The  growing 

community — Mother  Seton  as  a teacher — Her  eldest  son 
— Mr.  P.  FilicchV s death. 

In  1811,  measures  were  taken  for  procuring  from  France 
a copy  of  the  regulations  in  use  amongst  the  “Daughters 
of  Charity,”  founded  by  St.  Vincent  of  Paul,  as  it  was  in- 
tended that  Mother  Seton’ s community  should  model  itself 
upon  the  same  basis.  It  became  necessary,  however,  to  in- 
troduce some  modification  of  the  rules,  as  it  was  thought 
expedient  that,  at  leas  t for  the  present,  the  sisters  should 
be  occupied  in  the  instruction  of  the  young  ; and  moreover, 
it  was  feared  that  Mother  Seton’ s peculiar  position  as  tht 
sole  guardian  of  five  young  children,  might  prove  a hin- 
derance  to  her  being  bound  permanently  as  the  superior  of  a 
religious  community. 

She  herself,  indeed,  considered  that  her  duties  as  a 
mother  were  paramount  to  every  other,  especially  since  her 
children’s  Protestant  relations  were  numerous  and  wealthy. 
Writing  to  a friend  on  this  subject,  she  says,  “By  the  law 
of  the  Church  I so  much  love,  I could  never  take  an  obli- 
gation which  interfered  with  my  duties  to  the  children,  ex- 
cept I had  an  independent  provision  and  guardian  for  them, 
which  the  whole  world  could  not  supply  to  my  judgment 
of  a mother’s  duty.”  This  and  every  other  diflBcultyin 
the  adoption  of  the  rules  was,  however,  at  length  arranged 
by  the  wisdom  of  Archbishop  Carroll ; ’ and  in  January,  181?. 
the  constitutions  of  the  Community  were  confirmed  by  the 


had  recently  been  elevated  to  the  archiepiecopal  dignity. 


707 


708 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


Archbishop  and  the  superior  of  St.  Mary’s  College,  in  Bal 
timore,  and  sent  for  observance  to  the  Sisters. 

A year  was  allowed  to  all  already  in  the  Sisterhood  to  try 
their  vocation,  at  the  end  of  which  time  they  might  either 
leave  the  institution  or  bind  themselves  by  vows.  Mother 
Seton  was  authorized,  even  after  she  had  taken  the  vows, 
to  watch  over  her  children’ s welfare  ; and  a conditional  pro- 
vision was  made  for  securing  to  the  community  her  perma- 
nent superintendence. 

The  general  rules  and  object  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  are 
so  well  known  that  little  need  be  said  on  that  subject.  The 
society  was  to  be  composed  of  unmarried  women  and  wid- 
ows, sound  of  mind  and  body,  and  between  sixteen  and 
twenty-eight  years  of  age  at  their  entrance.  It  was  also 
expected  that  they  should  desire  to  devote  their  whole  lives 
to  the  service  of  God  in  His  poor,  and  in  the  instruction  of 
children ; though  the  vows  were  only  taken  for  a single  year, 
and  renewed  annually. 

“Though  they  do  not  belong  to  a religious  order  (such 
a state  being  incompatible  with  the  objects  of  their  Society), 
yet,  as  they  are  more  exposed  to  the  w^orld  than  members 
of  a religious  order,  having  in  most  circumstances  no  other 
monastery  than  the  houses  of  the  sick  or  the  school-room, 
no  other  cell  than  a rented  apartment,  no  other  chapel  than 
the  parish  church,  no  cloister  but  the  public  street  or  hos- 
pital, no  enclosure  but  obedience,  no  gate  but  the  fear  of 
God,  no  veil  but  that  of  holy  modesty— they  are  taught  to 
aim  at  the  highest  virtue,  and  to  comport  themselves,  under 
all  circumstances,  with  as  much  edification  as  if  they  were 
living  in  a convent.  The  salvation  of  their  souls  is  the 
paramount  consideration  they  are  to  have  in  view.  The 
cultivation  of  humility,  charity,  and  simplicity  ; the  per- 
formance of  their  actions  in  union  with  the  Son  of  God  ; con- 
tempt of  the  world  ; disengagement  from  created  things; 
love  of  abjection  ; patient  and  even  cheerful  endurance  of  all 
earthly  crosses  and  trials,  and  a great  confidence  in  Divine 
Providence,  are  practices  which  the  Sisters  consider  essen- 
tial to  their  profession.” 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON.  7oy 

During  the  year  of  probation  ten  more  ladies  were  added 
to  the  community,  which  now  consisted  of  thirty  Sisters; 
and  by  the  adoption  of  a settled  rule  of  life,  Mother  Seton 
had  the  happiness  of  seeing  them  make  daily  j^rogress  both 
in  fervor  towards  God  and  usefulness  to  their  neighbors. 
There  was  one  amongst  them  who  was  a source  of  far  deeper 
joy  and  gratitude  than  the  rest.  This  was  her  own  eldest 
daughter,  Anna  or  Annina.  From  early  childhood  she  had 
been  remarkable  for  her  virtue  and  piety ; and  now,  being 
both  good,  clever,  and  beautiful,  she  was  the  delight  of  all 
who  knew  her.  When  only  fifteen,  her  hand  had  been 
sought  in  marriage  by  a young  gentleman  of  great  wealth 
and  talent ; and,  with  the  approbation  of  all  his  friends,  he 
journeyed  to  his  distant  home  to  make  the  necessary  prepa- 
ration. There,  however,  he  found  his  only  parent,  a mother^ 
60  strongly  opposed  to  it,  that  he  was  prevailed  upon  to 
break  his  faith  with  Miss  Seton. 

Happily,  with  the  true  spirit  of  a Christian,  the  young 
iady  regarded  the  whole  matter  as  ordered  by  God  for  her 
greater  good  and  devoted  herself  more  assiduously  than  be- 
fore to  all  the  religious  practices  of  the  Community  in  St. 
Joseph’s  Valley.  Although  still  only  amongst  the  pupils,  she 
strictly  observed  the  rules  of  the  novitiate,  rising  at  four 
both  in  winter  and  summer,  that  she  might  spend  an  hour  in 
lu-ayer  and  meditation  before  Mass  in  the  chapel.  She  per- 
formed in  secret  many  heroic  acts  of  mortification,  and  had 
so  little  taste  for  the  world  that,  when  visiting  a lery 
excellent  family  in  Baltimore,  she  implored  her  mother  to 
recall  her  to  St.  Joseph’s  Valley,  because  “her  soul  wearied 
of  the  distractions  of  a secular  life.” 

Her  example  animated  the  pupils  to  an  extraordinary  de- 
votion, and  some  of  the  elder  girls  formed  themselves  into  a 
band  under  her  direction,  governed  by  special  rules,  and  ha- 
bitually seeking  to  mortify  themselves  by  acts  of  penance. 
At  the  same  time  she  both  watched  tenderly  over  the  younger 
pupils — especially  those  preparing  for  their  first  Commun- 
ion— and  also  maintained  a correspondence  with  those 
young  ladies  who  had  left  the  school,  seeking  to  keep  alive 


710 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  8ET0N. 


in  their  hearts  the  good  principles  they  had  learned 
amongst  the  Sisters.  Anxious  to  consecrate  herself  more 
perfectly  to  God,  she  applied,  as  soon  as  her  age  per- 
mitted, for  admission  to  the  Sisterhood,  and  was  gladly 
received;  but  towards  the  ev:d  of  September,  1811,  taking  a 
violent  cold,  she  soon  became  so  ill,  that  all  hope  of  seeing 
her  continue  to  edify  the  Community  by  her  exemplary 
piety  was  sorrowfully  abandoned.  As  for  herself,  she  only 
rejoiced  to  believe  that  she  was  near  her  end  ; and  she  con- 
tinued to  the  last  both  to  practice  perfect  humility  and 
patience  in  herself,  and  to  encourage  it  in  others. 

A very  painful  remedy  having  been  proposed  and  then 
postponed,  she  said,  “Oh,  no,  to-day  is  Friday  ; let  it  be  done 
to-day,  for  it  is  the  best  day,  my  dearest  Lord.”  To  her 
companions  she  wrote,  “ I am  now  suffering  in  earnest,  not 
as  we  used  to  do  on  our  knees,  when  meditating  on  the  Pas- 
sion of  our  dear  Lord.  We  used  to  wish  to  suffer  with 
Him  ; but  when  called  to  prove  the  wish,  how  different  is 
the  reality  from  the  imagination ! Let  my  weakness  be  a 
lesson  to  you.” 

When  Mother  Seton  half  reproached  her  for  her  little 
care  of  her  health,  “ rising  at  the  first  bell,  and  even  being 
on  the  watch  to  ring  it  the  moment  the  clock  struck  ; wash- 
ing at  the  pump  in  the  severest  weather,  often  eating  in  the 
refectory  what  sickened  her  stomach,  etc. — ‘Ah,  dear 
mother,’  she  replied,  coloring  deeply,  as  if  she  was  wound- 
ing humility,  ‘if  our  dear  Lord  called  me  up  to  meditate, 
was  I wrong  to  go  1 If  I washed  at  the  pump,  did  not  oth- 
ers more  delicate  do  it  ? If  I ate  what  I did  not  like,  was  it 
not  proper,  since  it  is  but  a common  Christian  act  to  con- 
trol my  appetite  ? Besides,  what  would  my  example  have 
been  to  my  class,  if  I had  done  otherwise  in  any  of  these 
cases  ? Indeed,  I have  given  too  much  bad  example  with- 
out this.  Dearest  Lord,  pardon  me.’  ” 

Night  and  day  did  Mother  Seton  watch  over  her  suffering 
child;  and  it  is  said  that  “it  would  be  difiicult  to  decide 
which  was  the  more  worthy  of  admiration,  the  daughter 
pressing  forward  with  eagerness  to  her  heavenly  home,  or 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  8ET0N. 


711 


the  mother  generously  offering  the  sacrifice  of  her  first-bom 
child.” 

On  the  30th  of  January,  she  received  with  great  fervor 
the  last  Sacraments ; but  her  death  was  yet  delayed  for 
some  weeks.  Her  mother  at  this  time  writes  to  a friend  : 
“The  dear,  lovely,  and  excellent  child  of  my  heart  is  on 
the  point  of  departure.  During  the  whole  of  the  last  week 
she  has  been  every  moment  on  the  watch,  expecting  every 
coughing-fit  would  be  the  last ; but  with  a peace,  resigna- 
tion, and  contentment  of  soul  truly  consoling,  not  suffering 
a tear  to  be  shed  around  her,  she  has  something  comforting 

to  say  to  all When  the  last  change  took  place,  and 

cold  sweat,  gasping  breathing,  and  agonizing  pain  indicated 
immediate  dissolution — the  pain  of  her  eyes  so  great  she 
could  no  longer  fix  them — she  said,  ‘ I can  no  longer  look 
at  you,  my  dear  crucifix  ; but  I enter  my  agony  with  my 
Saviour  ; I drink  the  cup  with  Him.  Yes,  adorable  Lord, 
Your  wiU,  and  Yours  alone,  be  done.  I will  it,  too.  I leave 
my  dearest  mother,  because  You  will  it ; my  dearest,  dear- 
est mother.’  Poor  mother ! you  will  say,  and  yet  happy 
mother.  You  can  well  understand  this  for  me,  dear  friend 
— to  see  her  receive  the  last  Sacraments  with  my  sentiments 
of  them,  her  precious  soul  stretching  out  towards  heaven, 
the  singular  purity  of  her  life,  of  w'hich  I could  give  you 
the  most  amiable  proofs,  my  calculations  of  this  world — all, 
dear  friend,  combine  to  silence  poor  nature.” 

On  the  Sunday  before  her  death,  Annina  begged  that  the 
young  ladies  from  the  school  might  come  in,  to  learn  a les- 
son of  human  frailty  from  her  wasted  form.  Being  fifty  in 
number,  they  were  admitted,  a few  at  a time,  and  she  ad- 
dressed them  in  her  dying  voice  with  the  most  impressive 
words.  Allowing  them  to  see  the  mortification  which  had 
already  begun  in  her  neck,  she  said,  “ See  the  bod 3"  which 
I used  to  dress  and  lace  up  so  well,  what  is  it  now  ? Look 
at  these  hands  ! the  worms  will  have  poor  banquets  here ! 
What  is  beauty?  what  is  life?  Nothing,  nothing.  Oh, 
love  and  serve  God  faithfully,  and  prepare  for  eternity. 
Some  of  you,  dear  girls,  may  be  soon  as  I am  now ; be  good, 


712 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


and  pray  for  me.  ’ ’ Annina  prayed  very  earnestly  to  die  a pro- 
fessed Sister  of  Charity;  and  though  the  time  had  not  yet  ar- 
rived for  any  to  bind  themselves  by  the  usual  vows,  she  was 
permitted  to  do  so  on  the  day  before  her  death,  thus  becom- 
ing the  first  professed  member  of  the  Sisterhood.  The  fol- 
lowing act  of  consecration  was  written  by  her  the  morning 
before  her  death,  kneeling  at  the  foot  of  a crucifix : 

“Amiable  and  adorable  Saviour!  at  the  foot  of  Your 
cross  I come  to  consecrate  myself  to  you  forever.  It  has 
pleased  You,  in  Your  infinite  mercy  and  goodness,  to  unite 
and  fasten  me  to  it  with  You.  0 dear  Jesus,  I offer  You  all 
my  sufferings,  little  as  they  are,  and  will  accept  with  resig- 
nation (oh,  by  Your  grace,  let  me  say,  love),  whatever  You 
will  please  to  send  in  future.  I offer,  in  union  with  Your 
blessed  merits,  all  the  sufferings  I ever  had  ; those  which  I 
endured  at  a time  when  I did  not  learn  to  unite  them  to 
Yours.  Those  I have  experienced  during  this  last  sickness 
I offer  more  particularly  to  Your  glory,  and  in  expiation  of 
the  offenses  and  grievous  sins  committed  during  my  life. 
Oh,  my  Jesus,  pardon  the  impatience,  ill-humor,  and  num- 
berless other  faults  I now  commit  ; I beseech  Thee  to  for- 
give. I offer  Thee  my  sufferings,  in  union  with  Your 
merits,  in  expiation  of  my  many  and  daily  offenses.” 

On  the  following  morning  she  requested  her  two  young 
sisters  to  kneel  by  her  bed  and  sing : 

“ Though  all  the  pains  of  hell  surround. 

No  evil  will  I fear  : 

For  while  ray  Jesus  is  ray  Friend, 

No  danger  can  come  near.” 


They  tried  to  compose  their  voices,  broken  by  sobs,  that 
they  might  please  their  dying  sister,  whom  their  mother, 
sitting  at  her  pillow,  was  supporting  in  her  arms.  But 
their  voices  refused  to  sing  at  such  a moment ; and  soon 
the  struggles  of  the  departing  soul  became  so  severe,  that 
Mother  Seton  was  obliged  to  retire  from  her  now  insensible 
child  to  the  chapel,  where  she  remained  before  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  till  all  was  over. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


713 


On  the  following  day  the  body  was  committed  to  the 
ground,  and  Mother  Seton,  more  like  a statue  than  a living 
being,  followed  her  sweet  child  to  the  grave.  But  one  tear 
was  seen  upon  her  cheek  as  she  returned ; and  raising  her 
eyes  to  heaven,  she  uttered  slowly,  as  if  yielding  to  the  full 
force  of  the  sublime  sentiment:  “Father,  Thy  will  b« 
done  ! ’ ’ Thus  died  Sister  Annina,  on  March  12th,  1812,  in 
the  seventeenth  year  of  her  age. 

She  was  cherished  warmly  in  the  memory  of  all  who  had 
ever  known  her ; and  the  village  children,  whom  she  had 
especially  chosen  for  her  pupils,  kept  her  grave  always 
green  and  fragrant  with  moss  and  lilies  of  the  valley.  The 
loss  of  this  dear  child  was  very  acutely  felt  by  Mother 
Seton,  and  she  writes  from  the  fullness  of  her  heart  to  a 
friend,  “ The  separation  from  my  angel  has  left  so  new  and 
deep  an  impression  on  my  mind,  that  if  I was  not  obliged 
to  live  in  these  dear  ones  (her  children),  I should  uncon- 
sciously die  in  her : unconsciously,  for  never,  by  a free  act 
of  the  mind,  would  I now  reject  His  will.'"  Who  can  tell 
the  silent  solitude  of  the  mother’ s soul,  its  peace  and  rest 
in  God.  “Eternity  was  Anna’s  darling  word.  I find  it 
written  in  everything  that  belonged  to  her  ; music,  books, 
copies,  the  walls  of  her  little  chamber — everywhere  that 
word.” 

In  September,  1812,  the  Rev.  Simon  Gabriel  Brute ' was  ap- 
pointed to  assist  the  Rev.  Mr.  Dubois  ; ’ and  his  friendship 
and  services  were  of  the  greatest  possible  value  to  Mother 
Seton  a.nd  the  community,  for  whom  he  how  celebrated 
Mass  four  times  a week.  Father  Brute  was  a man  of  rare 
gifts,  rare  learning,  and  great  physical  activity,  singularly 
blessed  with  energy  and  power  of  expression ; and  from  the 
first  he  and  Mother  Seton  heartily  sympathized. 

In  the  following  July,  the  Community,  now  eighteen  in 
number,  bound  themselves  by  the  vows  of  poverty,  charity, 
and  obedience,  ten  young  ladies  being  at  the  same  time 
admitted  into  the  novitiate. 


> Afterwards  first  Bishop  of  Vincennes,  In4 


• Afterwards  Bishop  of  New  York. 


714 


MOTUEli  ELIZABETH  ANN  8ET0N. 


The  war  with  G-reat  Britain  at  this  time  made  many 
things  so  expensive  that  a more  rigid  economy  was  neces- 
sary, to  which,  however,  the  Sisters  cheerfully  lent  them- 
selves. Sugar  was  dispensed  with,  and  coarser  clothing  in- 
troduced. In  1814,  a detachment  of  Sisters  were  sent  to 
Philadelphia,  to  take  charge  of  the  children  whose  parents 
had  died  of  the  yellow  fever;  and  in  1817  a colony  was 
established  in  New  York  City  from  the  mother-house  at 
Eiumittsburg  The  instructions  and  affectionate  exhorta- 
tions given  by  Mother  Seton  to  those  Sisters  who  were  leaving 
her  for  another  mission  were  beautifully  characteristic  of 
her  idea  of  what  the  life  of  a Christian,  and,  above  all,  a 
Sister  of  Charity,  should  be. 

She  herself  most  strictly  observed  the  Rules  of  the  house, 
though  her  health  was  now  becoming  feeble;  “was  incess- 
antly occupied  in  the  duties  of  her  situation,  yet  always 
calm,  self-possessed,  even-tempered,  and  her  soul  appar- 
ently collected  in  God.  She  was  remarkable  for  her  love  of 
poverty  and  mortification  of  the  senses.”  At  first  she  had 
taken  charge  of  the  highest  class  amongst  the  pupils,  but 
now  this  was  no  longer  necessary.  Yet  she  still  visited  the 
school-room  constantly,  encouraging,  counseling,  and  edi- 
fying by  her  presence  no  less  than  by  her  words.  She  con- 
sidered the  young  ladies  as  a sacred  trust  from  God,  and 
was  accustomed  to  say  to  the  Sisters  under  whose  particu- 
lar care  they  were,  “Be  to  them  as  our  guardian  angels  are 
to  us.” 

Twice  a week  she  gave  familiar  instructions  to  the  elder 
pupils,  in  which  she  displayed  her  singular  aptitude  for  edu- 
cation. Yet  her  manner  was  rather  that  of  the  intelligent 
and  affectionate  parent  than  of  the  pedantic  teacher ; and 
her  sweetness  won  so  readily  the  confidence  of  her  pupils, 
that  they  opened  their  hearts  to  her  as  their  dearest  friend. 

“Your  little  mother,  my  darlings,”  she  would  say, 
“does  not  come  to  teach  you  to  be  good  nuns  or  Sisters  of 
Charity ; but  rather,  I would  wish  to  tit  you  for  that  world 
in  which  you  were  destined  to  live ; to  teach  you  how  to  be 
good  mistresses  and  mothers  of  families.  Yet,  if  the  dear. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


715 


Master  selects  one  among  you  to  be  closer  to  Him,  happy 
are  you ; He  will  teach  you  Himself.” 

In  1814  Mrs.  Seton’s  eldest  son  completed  his  eighteenth 
year.  He  was  anxious  to  enter  the  navy,  whilst  his 
mother  wished  him  to  go  into  some  mercantOe  house; 
but  this  was  rendered  somewhat  difficult,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  disturbed  state  of  commercial  affairs  during 
the  war.  However,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brute  being  anxious  to 
visit  Europe,  she  resolved  to  send  her  son  under  his 
guardianship  to  the  Messrs.  Filicchi,  at  least  for  a time.  Two 
years  later  her  second  son  was  placed  in  the  house  of  a mer- 
chant at  Baltimore,  and  went  afterwards  to  Leghorn  when 
his  brother  left  to  carry  out  his  own  purpose  of  entering 
the  navy. 

About  this  time  Mr.  Philip  Filicchi  died ; and  deeply 
was  his  loss  deplored,  not  only  by  Mother  Seton  and  his 
most  immediate  friends,  but  by  all.  His  death  was  said  to 
be  almost  a public  calamity,  sorrowed  over  by  “ hundreds  of 
poor  fed  at  his  hands,  orphans  depending  on  his  support, 
and  prisoners  relieved  by  his  charity.” 


CHAPTER  yi. 

CROSS  AND  CROWN. 

Death  of  Mother  Seton's  youngest  daughter — Father 
Brute — Luther  is  Luther'''^ — Mother  Seton's  health  he- 
comes  feeble — Her  patience — Her  last  moments — Her 
holy  death — Her  character — The  results  of  her  toil. 

Two  months  after  this  time  Mother  Seton  was  called 
upon  to  render  back  to  tiod  another  of  her  children,  her 
youngest  daughter,  whose  intelligent  and  amiable  disposi- 
tion had  endeared  her  to  all  who  knew  her.  She  had  been 
ailing  now  since  1812,  when  she  was  injured  by  a fall  on  the 
ice ; and  that  she  might  have  the  best  medical  advice,  she 
was  removed  for  some  time  to  Baltimore.  Whilst  there,  her 
mother  used  the  most  affectionate  endeavors,  by  frequent 
little  notes,  to  turn  the  mind  of  her  suffering  child  to  the 
end  for  which  she  was  afficted.  The  following  is  one  of 
them : 

“My  Soul’s  Little  Darling, — Mother  s eyes  fill  with 
tears  ever  when  she  thinks  of  you  ; but  loving  tears  of  joy, 
that  my  dear  one  may  suffer  and  bear  pain,  and  resign  hersell 
to  the  will  of  our  Dearest,  and  be  the  child  of  His  cross. 
You  know,  mother  has  often  told  you  that  the  one  who 
suffers  most  is  the  dearest  to  me  ; and  so  our  Dearest  loves 
the  child  He  afflicts  with  a double  love.  Remember,  my 
dear  one,  what  mother  told  you  about  love  and  obedience  to 
our  so  kind  and  tender  friend ; ' and  our  Dearest,  not  to 
forget  Him  for  a moment.  You  know  He  never  forgets  you ; 
and  do  not  mind  kneeling,  but  speak  your  heart  to  Him 
anywhere.  May  His  dear,  dearest  blessing  be  on  you.  . . . 
Jesus,  Mary,  and  Joseph,  bless  and  love  you  ! ” 


I The  lady  with  whom  ehe  was  etaying. 


716 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


717 


By  the  pious  example  of  this  amiable  child,  many  prac- 
tices of  devotion  were  introduced  amongst  the  boarders ; 
and  as  she  was  a general  favorite  at  St.  Joseph’s,  her  in- 
fluence had  the  happiest  effect.  The  orphans  educated 
there  had  been  formed  into  a class  distinct  from  the  board- 
ers, and  were  disposed  to  resent  this  separation  as  a humil- 
iating position ; Miss  Rebecca  Seton,  however,  voluntarily 
ranked  herself  amongst  them,  and  immediately  all  bitter- 
ness of  feeling  was  changed  into  grateful  affection.  Though 
only  thirteen  years  of  age,  she  was  devout  and  fervent  in 
approaching  the  Sacraments ; and,  indeed,  she  needed  all 
the  strength  and  consolation  which  these  alone  can  bestow  ; 
for  during  the  last  six  months  of  her  life  she  was  scarcely 
ever  free  from  the  most  excruciating  pain.  Nevertheless, 
she  w'as  always  patient,  resigned,  and  even  cheerful  in  man- 
ner, fulfilling  the  anxious  wishes  of  her  mother,  that  she 
might  look  on  her  sufferings  only  as  a transitory  means  to  a 
glorious  and  eternal  end. 

“Death,  death,  my  mother,”  she  would  say  in  her  agony  ; 
“it  seems  so  strange  that  I shall  be  no  more  here.  You 
will  come  back  (from  the  graveyard),  dearest  mother, 
alone.  No  little  Rebecca  behind  the  curtain.  But  that  is 
only  one  side ; when  I look  at  the  other,  I forget  all ; — you 
will  be  comforted.  If  Dr.  C.  were  to  say  now,  Rebecca,  you 
will  get  well,  I could  not  wish  it, — no,  my  dearest  Saviour ! I 
am  convinced  of  the  happiness  of  an  early  death.  And  to 
sin  no  more  ; — that  is  the  point,  my  mother;  ” throwing  her 
arms  around  her,  and  repeating  “to  sin  no  more.” 

A few  extracts  from  the  journal  of  her  dear  child’s  last 
days,  made  by  Mother  Seton  for  Father  Brute,  who  was 
still  absent  in  Europe,  will  describe  more  touchingly  than 
any  words  of  our  own  the  admirable  fortitude  with  which 
the  little  sufferer  “endured  to  the  end.” 

“ ‘ It  seemed  to  me  this  morning,”  said  she,  ‘ that  I could 
not  bear  it ; but  one  look  at  our  Saviour  changed  it  all. 
What  were  the  dislocations  of  his  bones,  my  mother  ! Oh, 
how  can  I mind  mine  ! ’ Not  a change  now  from  continued 
sitting,  but  to  kneel  a little  on  one  knee ; obliged  to  give 


718  MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 

up  her  bed  entirely.  We  tried  to-day.  ‘I  know,’  said  she, 
‘ I cannot ; but  we  must  take  it  quietly,  my  dear  mother, 
and  offer  up  the  pains,’— trying  to  get  in  and  out  of  bed— 
‘and  let  it  take  its  way.’  Finding  it  impossible,  she  said, 
‘I  must  lie  down  no  more  until — but  never  mind,  my 
mother,  come  sit  by  me.’  Softly  now  she  sings  the  little 
words,  after  resting  on  one  knee  awhile,  for  our  evening 
prayer : 

“Now  another  day  is  gone, 

So  much  pain  and  sorrow  o’er. 

So  much  nearer  our  dear  home  : 

There  we’ll  praise  Him, 

There  we’ll  bless  Him  evermore.” 

Then  leans  so  peaceably  her  dear  head  on  my  lap,  and  offers 
up,  as  she  says,  ‘ the  poor  mass  of  corruption,  covered  with 
the  blood  of  our  Jesus.’ 

“ The  little  beloved  now  sits  up  in  a chair  night  and  day, 
leaning  on  my  arm,  the  bones  so  rubbed  she  cannot  rest  on 
one  knee  as  before;  but  says  so  cheerfully,  ‘Our  Lord 
makes  me  pay  for  past  misdemeanors.’ 

“ What  a morning  with  our  little  one  ! her  perspective  ! 
Straining  forward,  with  rolling,  rapid  tears,  she  said,  putting 
her  arms  around  me,  ‘ Mother,  the  worst  is,  I shall  have  to 
give  an  account  of  all  the  Masses  I have  heard  so  carelessly  ; 
O my  carelessness ! ’ the  tears  redoubled.  ‘ My  lirst  com- 
munion ! yet  surely  I tried  not  to  make  it  badly ; and  if, 
dearest  mother,  I shall  have  the  blessings  of  the  last  Sacra- 
ments, ’ — then  she  looked  so  earnestly  at  the  crucifix,  and 
wiped  her  eyes.  Again  spoke  of  Extreme  Unction  ; but 
after  all  the  comfort  another  burst  of  tears.  ‘ Yet  the  last 
struggles,  mother  ! — there  is  something  in  death— I cannot 
tell.  How  lazy  I am,  my  mother;  and  how  sweet  and 
bright  is  Nina’s  carpet!  ‘ Oh,  how  I will  beg  our  Lord  to 
let  me  come  to  you,  when  you  will  be  here  so  lonely  ! You 
know,  mother,  I never,  enjoyed  any  little  pleasure  in  this 
world,  unless  you  shared  it,  or  I told  you  of  it.  How  I 
will  beg  of  Him  to  let  me  come  and  comfort  you  ! You 


* Her  Bister  Annina  ; carpet,  the  bine  sky,  seen  from  the  window. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


719 


know,  too,  I could  guess  your  pains,  even  when  you  did  not 
speak.’  But  oh,  the  thousand  little  endearments  of  her 
manner,  while  saying  these  words,  so  dear  to  a mother's 
heart ! Every  waking  through  the  night  speaking  of  what 
they  were  doing  in  heaven  ! Her  poor  leg  burst — pain  in 
the  side  excessive — but  the  little  cheerful  laugh  and  pain 
go  together.  ‘ How  good  it  is,  oh,  how  good  ! since  it  shows 
our  Lord  will  not  let  it  last  long.’ 

“‘Last  night,’  said  she,  ‘in  the  midst  of  my  misery,  I 
seemed  somewhere  gone  out  of  my  body,  and  summoning  all 
the  saints  and  angels  to  pray  for  me  ; but  the  Blessed  Vir- 
gin, St.  Joseph,  and  my  guardian  angel,  St.  Augustine,  and 
St.  Xavier,  whom  I love  so  much  (St.  Augustine’s  burning 
heart  for  our  Lord,  you  know,  mother),  these  I claimed  and 
insisted  on  defending  me  in  judgment. — Oh,  my  mother  ! 
that  judgment ; ’ then  again  her  eyes  fastened  on  the  cruci- 
fix as  long  as  pain  would  permit.  ‘ O mother,  how  I suffer, 
every  bone,  every  joint,  every  limb  ; do  mother,  pray  for 
my  faith.  You  see,  dearest,  every  day  something  of  warn- 
ing is  added  that  I soon  must  go  ; yet  I remember  only  twice 
to  have  thought  my  sufferings  too  hard  since  I was  hurt ; 
— so  our  dear  Lord  pity  me,  and  give  me  a short  purgatory  : 
yet  in  this  His  will  be  done  ; at  least,  then  I shall  be  safe, 
and  sin  no  more.’ 

“Always  wishing  to  be  employed,  she  cut  some  leaves  of 
artificial  flowers,  and  seemed  very  earnestly  employed  in 
sewing  on  a small  garment  for  a poor  child,  with  trembling 
hands  and  panting  breath,  two  days  before  her  agony. 

“ The  Superior  came, ” Rev.  Mr.  Dubois,  “and  seeing  the 
pitiful  state  of  the  poor  darling,  kindly  offered  to  remain 
with  her.  Her  gratitnde  was  inexpressible.  The  presence 
of  a priest  seemed  to  arm  her  against  every  power  of  the 
enemy.  He  told  her,  about  midnight,  that  as  she  had  not 
slept  nor  ate  anything  for  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  it 
would  be  well  to  take  a little  paregoric.  ‘ Well,’  said  she 
very  gently  to  him,  ‘ if  I go  to  sleep  I shall  not  come  back  ; 
so  good-by  to  you  all.  Do  give  my  love  to  everybody  ; 
good-by,  dear  Kit,’  (her  sister  Josephine,  kissing  her  most 


720 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  8ET0N. 


tenderly),  ‘and  yon,  my  dearest  mother.’  But  here  her  lit- 
tle heart  failed  her,  and  she  hid  herself  in  my  bosom. 
Again,  trying  to  compose  herself,  she  said,  ‘ I will  give 
your  love  to  everybody  I meet  with  on  the  way.’  But  no 
sleep  or  rest  for  her.”  So  dawned  for  child  and  mother 
All  Souls’  Day.  “ It  passed  as  yesterday  ; only  increased 
pains.  Our  God,  our  God  ! to  wait  one  hour  for  an  object 
every  moment  expected  ! but  poor  Bee’s  hours  and  agonies 
are  known  to  You  alone! — her  meek,  submissive  looks,  art- 
less appeals  of  sorrow,  and  unutterable  distress. 

“The  hundred  little  acts  of  piety  that  All  Souls’  Day,  so 
sad  and  sorrowful;  the  fears  of  the  poor  mother’s  heart; 
her  bleeding  hearc  for  patience  and  perseverance  in  so  weak 
a child,  the  silent  long  looks  at  each  other ; fears  of  interfer- 
ing in  any  way  with  the  designs  of  infinite  love ! Oh,  that  day 
and  night  and  following  day  ! The  Rev.  Superior  told  her  he 
would  not  wish  her  sufferings  shortened.  She  quietly  gave 
up,  felt  her  pulse  no  more,  inquired  no  more  about  going, 
or  what  time  it  was  ; but  with  her  heart  of  sorrow  pictured 
on  her  countenance,  looking  now  at  the  crucifix,  again  at 
mother,  seemed  to  mind  nothing  else.  Once  she  said,  ‘ My 
love  is  so  weak — so  imperfect — my  mother  ; I have  been  so 
unfaithful,  I have  proved  so  little  my  love.’  Her  poor  lit- 
tle heart  seemed  sinking,  yet  eyes  steadfastly  fixed  on  the 
crucifix.  ‘My  mother;  kiss  that  Blessed  Side  for  me.’ 
Her  small  crucifix  round  her  neck  was  often  pressed  to 
her  lips — those  cold,  dying  lips  ; and  then  she  would  press 
it  to  her  heart.  ‘Hangs  my  helpless  soul  on  Thee,’  slie 
would  say.  Night  came  again.  She  often  bowed  her  head, 
in  which  all  her  pain  seemed  centred,  to  the  holy  water  pre- 
sented by  the  Rev.  Superior.  We  said  some  short  prayers, 
and  she  repeated,  ‘ In  the  hour  of  death  defend  me  ; call  me 
to  come  to  Thee  ; receive  me.’  Near  four  in  the  morning, 
she  said,  ‘ Let  me  sit  once  more  on  the  bed  ; it  will  be  the 
last  struggle.’  Cecilia’s  arms  and  mother’s  supporting  her, 
she  sank  between  us ; the  darling  head  fell  on  the  well- 
known  heart  it  loved  so  well,  and  all  was  over.  My  God  ! 
my  God  ! That  morning  she  had  said,  ‘ Be  not  sorro  wful. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  8ET0N  721 

my  mother ! I shall  not  go  far  from  you  ; I am  sure  our 
dear  Lord  will  let  me  come  and  console  you.’  Josephine’s 
tears  hurt  her.  ‘ I do  not  look,’  she  said,  ‘to  being  left  in 
the  grave,  and  you  all  turning  home  without  me ; I look 
high  up.’  ” 

In  1818,  Father  Brute  again  came  to  reside  at  St.  Mary’s 
College,  and  became  confessor  to  the  Community  of  St. 
Joseph.  This  was  a great  consolation  for  Mother  Seton, 
who  had  the  highest  regard  for  this  excellent  priest.  Her 
health  was  now  very  feeble  ; but  she  exerted  herself  to  ful- 
fill with  diligence  the  onerous  duties  of  her  responsible  of- 
fice. “I  cannot  die  one  way,”  she  writes  to  a friend,  “so 
I try  to  die  the  other,  and  keep  the  straight  path  to  God 
alone.”  She  maintained  the  tenderest  watchfulness  over 
those  Sisters  absent  on  any  mission  ; and  thus  writes  to 
one,  who  was  lamenting  her  inability,  through  illness,  to 
fulfill  the  charge  she  had  undertaken  : “My  own  dear  sis- 
ter, I take  a laugh  and  a cry  at  your  flannels  and  plasters. 
Never  mind  ; God  is  God  in  it  all.  If  you  are  to  do  His 
work,  the  strength  will  be  given  you ; if  not,  my  precious 
child,  some  one  else  will  do  it,  and  you  come  back  to  your 
home.  No  great  affair  where  His  dear  atom  is,  if  only  His 
will  is  done.  Peace,  dearest  soul,  from  our  Jesus.  I took 
a long  look  at  our  dear  crucifix  for  you.  All  are  here 
nearly  as  you  left ; our  faithful  God  the  same ! — Ever  your 
little  mother.” 

During  the  years  we  have  so  rapidly  passed  over,  many 
Sisters  were  summoned  from  the  little  Community  to  their 
eternal  home.  And  if  it  were  possible  to  relate  of  their 
pious  souls  the  different  acts  of  humility,  charity,  and  de- 
votion by  which  they  edified  all  who  knew  them,  and  em- 
balmed their  names  in  the  memory  of  the  Sisterhood,  some 
idea  might  be  formed  of  the  holy,  happy  retreat  over  which 
Mother  Seton  presided  in  St.  Joseph’s  Valley.  Many  were 
converts.  Amongst  others,  we  are  told  of  one  who  had 
been  a Methodist,  but  was  ever  seeking  after  the  true 
Church  until  she  found  it. 

“Luther  is  Luther,”  she  used  to  say  to  those  on  whom 


722 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


she  urged  her  anxiety  before  her  conversion,  “Calvin  ia 
Calvin.  Wesley  is  Wesley  ; but  where  is  the  Church  of  the 
Apostles  ? ” By  God’ s good  grace  she  was  guided  at  last  to 
St.  Joseph’s  Yalley,  where  she  happily  found  what  she 
sought. 

It  has  been  already  mentioned  more  than  once,  that 
Mother  Seton’s  health  had  become  very  feeble;  and  in  1820 
her  lungs  were  so  seriously  affected,  that  her  medical  attend- 
ants gave  no  hope  of  her  ultimate  recovery.  For  her  this 
world  had  long  ceased  to  be  anything  but  “a  dark  passage 
leading  to  eternity.  I see  nothing,”  she  says,  “but  the 
blue  sky  and  our  altars  ; all  the  rest  is  so  plainly  as  not  to 
be  looked  at.  We  talk  now  all  day  of  my  death,  and  how 
it  will  be,  just  like  the  rest  of  the  housework.  What  is  it 
else  ? What  are  we  come  into  the  world  for  ? Why  is  it 
so  long,  but  this  last,  great,  eternal  end  ? It  seems  to  me 
so  simple  when  I look  ip  to  the  crucifix.” 

The  year  before  her  death  she  thus  writes  to  a priest: 
“O  my  father,  friend,  could  I hear  my  last  stage  of  cough, 
and  feel  my  last  stage  of  pain,  in  the  tearing  away  my 
prison-walls,  how  could  I bear  my  joy ! The  thought  of  going 
home,  and  called  by  His  will ! What  a transport ! But, 
they  say,  don’t  you  fear  to  die?  Such  a sinner  must  fear  ; 
but  I fear  much  more  to  live,  and  know  as  I do  that  every 
morning  finds  my  account  but  lengthened  and  enlarged.  I 
don’t  fear  death  half  so  much  as  my  hateful,  vile  self.” 

Twelve  years  she  had  now  spent  in  her  retirement.  Dur- 
ing the  last  four  months  she  was  confined  to  her  room,  and 
her  sufferings  at  times  were  very  great ; but  only  under  obe- 
dience to  her  director  would  she  submit  to  any  effort  for 
their  alleviation.  Not  a complaint  was  to  be  heard;  and  if 
thi'ough  extreme  pain  there  escaped  her  an  involuntary  sign 
of  impatience,  she  was  uneasy  until  she  had  received  abso- 
lution. Her  humility  was  as  great  as  her  resignation.  One 
of  the  Sisters  saying  something  which  implied  a hope  of 
going  to  heaven  immediately  after  death.  Mother  Seton  ex- 
claimed fervently,  “My  blessed  God!  how  far  from  that 
thought  am  I,  of  going  straight  to  heaven  ! such  a miserable 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON. 


TA3 


creature  as  I am  ! ’•  Father  Brute  w^s  constantly  with  her, 
aud  his  ministry  was  a source  of  the  most  abundant  graces 
to  her  soul. 

In  these  last  days  she  was  not  left  without  singular  con- 
solations. She  said,  “It  seems  as  if  our  Lord  and  His 
Blessed  Mother  stood  continually  by  me,  in  a corporeal 
form,  to  comfort,  cheer,  and  encourage  me  in  the  different 
weary  and  tedious  hours  of  pain.”  More  than  ever  did 
Mother  Seton  now  appreciate  the  grace  of  her  conversion. 
Being  asked  by  her  director  what  she  considered  the  great- 
est blessing  ever  bestowed  upon  her  by  God,  she  answered, 
“That  of  being  brought  into  the  Catholic  Church.”  And 
speaking  with  holy  transport  of  the  happiness  of  dying  in 
the  arms  of  this  tender  Mother,  she  added,  “ How  few  know 
the  value  of  such  a blessing  ! ” 

Being  about  to  receive  the  last  Sacraments,  she  begged 
that  all  her  spiritual  daughters  might  assemble  in  her  room, 
where  they  were  addressed  in  her  name  by  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Dubois  as  follows:  “Mother  Seton  being  too  weak,  charges 
me  to  recommend  to  you  at  this  sacred  moment,  in  her 
place:  first,  to  be  united  together  as  true  Sisters  of  Charity; 
secondly,  to  stand  most  fathfully  by  your  Rules;  thirdly, 
that  I ask  pardon  for  all  the  scandals  she  may  have  given 
you,  that  is,  for  indulgences  prescribed  during  sickness  by 
me  or  the  physicians.”  Mother  Seton’ s voice  added,  “I 
am  thankful,  Sisters,  for  your  kindness  in  being  present  at 
this  trial.  Be  children  of  the  Church,  be  children  of  the 
Church.” 

When  the  last  awful  moment  was  at  hand,  the  Sisters 
pressed  in  anguish  around  the  bed  of  their  cherished  and 
saintly  Mother.  Her  only  daughter  was  fainting  beside  her 
from  intense  emotion;  but  on  Mother  Seton’ s countenance 
was  no  shadow  of  grief,  or  doubt,  or  disturbance — all  was 
peace  there.  She  rested  immovably  in  the  hands  of  God, 
repeating,  “May  the  most  just,  the  most  high,  and  the 
most  holy  will  of  God  be  accomplished  forever  ! ” 

A Sister  whom  she  requested  to  repeat  her  favorite 
prayer,  “Soul  of  Jesus,  sanctify  me;  Blood  of  Jesus  wash 


724 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


me,”  etc.,  being  unable  through  her  sobs  to  proceed,  tli*? 
dying  lady  finished  it  herself.  “Jesus,  Mary,  Joseph!” 
were  her  last  words.  And  thus  passed  away  from  this 
world,  in  faith  and  hope  and  love.  Mother  Elizabeth  Ann 
Seton,  on  the  4th  of  January,  1821,  in  the  forty-seventh 
year  of  her  age. 

Amidst  the  tears  and  lamentations  of  the  whole  Commu- 
nity, her  remains  were  carried  to  their  last  resting-place  on 
the  following  day.  A cross  and  a rose-tree  were  planted  on 
her  grave,  and  from  innumerable  grateful  hearts  went  up  to 
heaven  with  the  Adorable  Sacrifice  the  most  pure  and  fer- 
vent prayers  that  her  soul  may  rest  in  peace.  Since  that 
time  a marble  monument  has  been  raised  over  her  remains, 
on  the  four  sides  of  which  are  inscribed : “To  the  memory 
of  E.  A.  Seton,  Foundress.”  “Precious  in  the  sight  of  the 
Lord  is  the  death  of  His  saints.”  “The  just  shall  live  in 
everlasting  remembrance.”  “The  just  shall  shine  as  the 
sun  in  the  kingdom  of  their  Father.”  And  on  the  wall  of 
the  humble  chamber  in  which  she  breathed  her  last  may  be 
read  the  following  inscription  : ‘ ‘ Here,  near  this  door,  by 

this  fire-place,  on  a poor,  lowly  couch,  died  our  cherished 
and  saintly  Mother  Seton,  on  the  4th  of  January,  1821.  She 
died  in  poverty,  but  rich  in  faith  and  good  works ; may  we, 
her  children,  walk  in  her  footsteps,  and  share  one  day  in  her 
happiness.  Amen.” 

But  little  remains  to  be  said  of  the  character  of  Mother 
Seton.  It  was  best  expressed  by  her  singular  and  sanctifying 
influence  over  others.  The  impression  she  produced  by  her 
look,  her  manner,  and  her  words,  was  extraordinary ; and 
many  instances  are  recorded  which  prove  the  effect  to  have 
been  as  lasting  as  it  was  powerful.  We  are  told  of  a gen- 
tleman whose  two  daughters  were  brought  up  in  her  school, 
but  who  from  his  early  childhood  had  neglected  all  relig- 
ious duties.  The  children  had  naturally  followed  his  ex- 
ample; but  were  not  long  inhabitants  of  St.  Joseph’s  Val- 
ley, before  they  not  only  learned  the  value  of  religious  privi- 
leges themselves,  but  earnestly  desired  that  their  beloved 
father  might  share  the  same  blessings. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SB  TON 


725 


Prevailing  upon  him  to  visit  Mother  Seton,  they  had  the 
great  consolation  of  finding  that  her  magical  infiuence  won 
his  heart  to  the  immediate  consideration  of  his  soul’s  salva- 
tion. He  declared  that  he  would  willingly  travel  six  hun- 
dred miles  to  enjoy  a view  of  Mother  Seton’ s eyes,  even 
if  she  did  not  open  her  lips  ; and  returning  home,  he  in- 
stantly, in  accordance  with  a promise  he  had  made  her, 
prepared  to  receive  the  Sacraments  of  the  Church,  and 
some  time  after  died  a happy  death. 

All  who  saw  her  acknowledged  the  same  charm.  Her 
power  of  language  was  remarkably  fascinating ; and  with  a 
gifted  and  accomplished  mind,  and  singularly  refined  man- 
ner, she  was  fitted  to  adorn  any  circle.  Her  pupils  could 
scarcely  have  had  a more  beautiful  model  before  them,  of  a 
lady,  a mother,  or  a Christian.  Charitable  and  consider- 
ate for  aU  around  her,  she  was  rigidly  severe  with  herself. 
In  dress,  food,  and  observance  of  the  rules,  she  unsparingly 
mortified  her  natural  inclination.  This  was  a cross  she 
felt  it  imperative  to  hold  closely  to  her  heart ; for  it  was 
often  a severe  effort  to  bring  her  will  into  submission  to  the 
directions  of  her  superiors,  and  she  was  tried  with  an  almost 
continual  sense  of  dryness  in  her  spiritual  duties.  But  her 
faith  triumphed  over  all.  “In  the  hour  of  manifestation,” 
she  writes  to  her  former  director,  ‘ ‘ when  all  this  cross- work- 
ing shall  be  explained,  we  shall  find  that  in  this  period  of 
our  poor  life  we  are  most  ripe  for  the  business  for  which 
we  were  sent.  While  the  ploughers  go  over  us,  then  we  are 
safe.  No  fears  of  pteasing  ourselves  ; no  danger  of  mistak- 
ing God’s  will.  No  ; ii  I thought  that  by  investigation  and 
an  appeal  to  superior  authority,  I should  be  to-morrow  re- 
leased from  this  cloud  of  darkness,  yet  I would  not  take 
one  step.  And  you,  my  dear  master  and  captain  in  the  way 
of  the  cross,  you  know  that  my  only  safe  way  (I  speak  for 
salvation)  is  to  remain  quite  still  with  Magdalen.  Yon 
well  know  that  He  who  works  my  fate  has  no  need  of  any 
other  help  from  me  but  a good  will  to  do  His  will,  and  an 
entire  abandonment  to  His  good  providence.  Let  them 
plough,  let  them  grind,  so  much  the  better — the  grain  will 


726 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANK  SETON. 


be  the  sooner  prepared  for  its  owner ; whereas,  should  I step 
forward  and  take  my  own  cause  in  hand,  the  Father  of  the 
widow  and  orphan  would  say  that  I distrust  Him.  Shall 
we  make  schemes  and  plans  of  human  h ppiness,  which 
must  be  so  uncertain  in  obtaininf?,  and  if  obtained — trash 
death!  eternitj  ? Oh,  my  father,  sursuincorda;  we  know 
better  than  to  be  cheated  by  such  attractions.  No  ; we  will 
offer  the  hourly  sacrifice,  and  drink  our  cup  to  th.  last  drop ; 
and  we,  when  least  expecting  it,  shall  3r>tor  xnto  our  rest  ” 
She  had  the  highest  veneration  for  the  character  of  a priest ; 
and  it  was  remarked  by  a saintly  prelate,  whose  own  name 
is  honored  throughout  the  Church  in  America,  that  no  one 
ever  impressed  his  mind  so  forcibly  as  Mother  Seton  did. 
with  the  idea  of  what  a true  priest  c^xght  to  be. 

Much  of  Mother  Seton’ s time  was  devoted  to  writing; 
and  the  Rev.  Superior  employed  her  able  pen  in  preparing, 
from  the  French  ascetic  literature,  instructions  and  medita- 
tions for  her  spiritual  children.  Correspond. ?nce  with  the 
clergy,  laity,  and  the  parents  of  her  pupils,  also  occupied 
all  the  leisure  she  could  spare  from  more  important  duties. 

The  following  is  one  of  the  very  few  specimens  of  her  po- 
etical effusions  that  yet  remain.  It  is  entitled  “Jerusalem, 
my  happy  home,”  and  had  the  gifted  and  saintly  lady  left 
no  other  writing  of  this  description,  it  would  still  be  suffi- 
cient to  win  her  the  praise  of  considerable  merit  as  a poet : 

Jerusalem,  my  happy  hom<, 

How  do  I sigh  for  thee  f 
When  shall  my  exile  have  an  end. 

Thy  joys  when  shall  I see  ? * 

" No  sun  or  moon  in  borrowed  light, 

Revolves  thine  hours  away  ; 

The  Iamb  on  Calvary's  mountain  slaht 
Is  thy  eternal  day. 

" Prom  every  eye  He  wipes  the  tear ; 

All  sighs  and  sorrows  cease  ; 

No  more  alternate  hope  and  fear , 

But  everlasting  peace. 


MOTHER  ELIZABETH  ANN  SETON 


m 


“ The  thought  of  Thee  to  us  is  given. 
Our  sorrows  to  beguile, 

T’  anticipate  the  bliss  of  Heaven, 

In  his  eternal  smile.”  ' 


' The  work  began  by  the  illustrious  Mother  Seton  has  gone  on  increasing  to  our  own  day.  The 
establishment  at  Bmmittsbnrg  is  one  of  the  noblest  and  most  beautiful  in  the  United  States. 
Some  changes,  however,  have  occurred.  In  1850  the  mother  house  at  Emmittsburg,  with  all  ita 
branch  establishments,  assumed  the  habit  worn  by  the  French  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  the  mem- 
bers renewed  their  vows  according  to  the  formulae  adopted  in  the  Society  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul. 
The  Emmittsburg  Community  now  forms  a province  of  that  great  Society  ; and,  at  present  con- 
ducts 102  houses,  1 academy,  50  schools,  38  asylums,  and  30  bospiials.  The  Sisters  number 
about  1,200. 

The  New  York  Sisters  of  Charity  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  form  a separate,  independent  body, 
and  now  represent  the  Society  as  founded  by  Mother  Seton.  They  direct  16  academies,  48 
schools,  13  orphan  asylums,  and  2 hospitals.  Standing  at  the  head  of  their  institutions  of  educa- 
tion is  the  famous  academy  of  Mount  Saint  Vincent-on-the-Hudson.  The  Sisters  number  SOC 
nembers.— See  “ Popular  History  ef  Ou  CiUhoUc  Church  in  the  United  States."  19.  401-i. 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON, 


“THE  LAST  OF  THE  SIGNERS.”* 


CHAPTER  I. 

A GREAT  man’s  EARLY  TEARS. 

The  Carroll  family — Birth  and  education  of  Charles  Car- 
roll  of  Carrollton — His  active  opposition  to  English 
tyranny — Marr  iage: — As  a popular  advocate — His  keen 
foresight  in  regard  to  the  Revolution — Repeal  of  tJce 
laws  against  Catholics. 

When  a youth,  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton  endeavored 
to  trace  his  ancestry  back  to  that  noble  Irish  Carroll  “who 
was  chief  of  the  name,  and  was  defeated  at  the  battle  of 
Knock-Lee  by  Gerald,  Earl  of  Kildare,  in  the  year  1516.” 
Later  in  life,  it  is  said,  he  was  content  to  begin  at  Daniel 
Carroll,  of  Littamourna,  King’s  ccunty,  Ireland. 

His  grandfather,  Charles  Carroll,  a son  of  Daniel,  came 
to  America  in  1680,  and  settled  at  Annapolis  in  Maryland. 
He  was  an  accomplished  lawyer,  and  became  the  agent  of 
Lord  Baltimore  in  1389.  It  was  a time  full  of  political  and 
religious  troubles.  Catholics  were  cruelly  persecuted,  and 
assumed  to  have  few  or  no  rights  which  the  English  Govern- 
ment was  bound  to  respect.  We  may  justly  credit  Charles 
Carroll  with  personal  qualities  of  a high  order,  since  he  held 
the  agency  for  the  absent  Proprietary — a Catholic  nobleman 


• Chief  authorities  used  • Clarke,  “ Memoir  of  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton  ; ” Lossing,  “ Livea 
of  the  Signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  \ ” Lossing,  “ Lives  of  Celebrated  Americans ; ’• 
I.atrobe,  “ Biography  of  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton McSherry,  “ History  of  Maryland , 
Ths  Magazine  of  American  Hietory,  VoL  II.:  “Journal  of  Charles  Carroll.” 


729 


78C 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTOH. 


— for  over  thirty  years,  with  honesty,  firmness,  and  manly 
fearlessness. 

In  1700  Lord  Baltimore  granted  to  this  Charles  Carroll 
10,000  acres  of  land  in  Anne  Arundel  county,  Maryland,  the 
same  running  from  a branch  of  the  Patuxent  river  to 
Thomas  Brown’s  plantation,  and  thence  to  landmarks  wiiich 
wmuld,  we  fear,  be  found  rather  indefinite  at  the  present  time, 
being  “four  Indian  cabbains.”  These  broad  acres,  with 
the  manor  house,  descended  through  four  generations  of 
only  sons,  the  third  of  whom  was  the  famous  subject  of  this 
sketch,  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton — the  prefix  “ Car- 
rollton” having  been  adoj)ted  long  before  the  Revolution 
from  a tract  of  land  in  Frederick  county. 

Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton  was  born  at  Annapolis, 
Maryland,  on  the  20th  of  September,.  1737.'  At  the  date  of 
his  birth,  the  Catholics  were  severely  oppressed  by  those 
odious  enactments  known  as  penal  laws.  They  were  even 
forbidden  to  have  schools.  The  Jesuit  Fathers,  however, 
succeeded,  without  attracting  the  attention  of  the  authorities, 
in  quietly  opening  a grammar  school  at  Bohemia,  on  the 
eastern  shore  of  Maryland.  Here  “the  Last  of  the  Signers  ” 
received  the  first  rudiments  of  knowledge. 

When  about, eleven  years  of  age,  Charles  was  sent,  with 
his  first  cousin,  John  Carroll,  afterwards  Archbishop  of  Bal- 
timore, to  the  College  of  the  English  Jesuits  at  St.  Omers, 
France,  where  he  pursued  the  study  of  the  classics  for  six 
years.  He  then  spent  a year  at  the  College  of  the  French 
Jesuits,  Rheims,  and  two  years  at  the  College  of  Louis  le 
Grand,  Paris.  At  Bourges,  he  passed  another  year  in  the 
study  of  civil  law;  and  in  1757  proceeded  to  London  to  the 
Inner  Temple,  and  earnestly  pursued  the  study  of  common 
law  for  about  seven  years.  An  accomplished  gentleman, 
with  a cultivated  and  mature  mind,  Charles  Carroll  returned 
to  Maryland  in  1764.  But,  in  the  very  land  of  his  birth,  he 
found  himself  almost  a helot  on  account  of  his  faith. 

As  became  him,  he  was  most  earnest  and  active  in  aU 


> Elizabeth  Brooks  was  his  mother's  maiden  name. 


CUARLEH  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 


731 


measures  which  were  taken  in  opposition  to  the  encroach- 
ments of  Great  Britain.  Writing  to  his  friend  Graves  in 
1765,  Mr.  Carroll  says:  “Nothing  can  overcome  the  aver- 
sion of  the  people  to  the  Stamp  act,  and  their  love  of  liberty, 
but  an  armed  force.  Twenty  thousand  men  would  find  it 
difficult  to  enforce  the  law,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  ram 
it  down  our  throats.” 

At  Annapolis  it  was  Charles  Carroll  who  boldly  gave  the 
advice  to  the  trembling  Stewart  to  burn  his  vessel,  with  its 
cargo  of  obnoxious  tea ; and  the  brig  was  towed  into  the 
harbor,  and,  in  broad  day,  burned  to  the  water’s  edge,  amid 
the  applauding  shouts  of  the  spectators  ! 

In  1768,  Mr.  Carroll  married  Miss  Mary  Darnall,  daugh- 
ter of  Henry  Darnall,  a kinsman  of  Lord  Baltimore.  The 
young  people  had  been  engaged  for  many  years  before. 
The  wedding-dress  had  been  ordered  from  London,  but  be- 
fore the  ceremony  the  lady  died.  The  wedding-dress  thus 
sent  over  more  than  a century  ago,  was  worn  in  1876,  at  one 
of  the  Martha  Washington  parties,  then  so  popular — the 
fabric  almost  untarnished  by  time. 

Two  years  later  we  find  him  engaged  in  one  of  the  most 
noted  political  contests  of  that  day.  Under  the  signature  of 
the  “First  Citizen,”  * he  boldly  upheld  the  rights  of  the 
people  in  opposition  to  the  arbitrary  action  of  Governor  Eden, 
of  Maryland.  One  of  the  ablest  and  most  fiery  lawyers  in 
the  Province  became  his  antagonist.  The  result  was  an  ex- 
citing newspaper  controversy.  Unusual  learning  and  ability 
were  displayed  on  both  sides.  But  Carroll,  by  his  close  logic, 
his  keen,  bold,  and  fearless  views,  gained  a triumphant  vic- 
tory for  the  popular  cause.  From  all  quarters  he  received 
congratulations.  His  fellow-citizens  of  Annapolis  turned 
out  in  a body  to  thank  him.  But  if  his  opponents  were 


. ’The  reason  of  Mr.  Carroll’s  aesnming  the  nom  de  plvme  of  “First  Citizen”  was  this: 
Among  the  earliest  writers  who  pnblicly  discussed  the  question  at  issue  between  the  Got- 
ernor  and  the  people  was  one  who,  taking  the  Governor’s  side,  published  a dialogue  between  two 
persons,  styled  the  “ First  Citizen,”  and  the  “ Second  Citizen.”  The  “Second  Citizen”  represented 
the  Governor’s  side,  and,  of  course,  “ First  Citizen”  was  badly  beaten — on  paper.  But  when  Mr. 
Carroll  took  up  the  people’s  cause,  and  assumed  the  name  of  the  vanquished,  he  soon  turned  the 
tide  of  %-ictory.  His  able  opponent  was  Daniel  Dulany,  Esq.,  who  wrote  under  the  signature  ot 
AntUore. 


732 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTOM. 


unable  to  meet  bis  reasons,  they  could  cheaply  insult  him. 
‘ ‘ Papist,  ” “ Romanist,  ” “ Jesuit,  ” and  other  equally  refined 
epithets  were  freely  thrown  at  the  advocate  of  the  people’s 
rights.  Catholicity  was  yet  in  contempt.  Hence,  neither 
the  position,  wealth,  nor  superior  education  of  Charles 
Carroll  of  Carrollton  could  save  him  from  the  vocabulary  of 
religious  fanaticism- -a  vocabulary  as  old  as  Luther,  and  as 
vile  as  the  lowest  of  his  followers. 

The  happy  result  of  this  controversy  raised  Mr.  Carroll 
in  the  eyes  of  his  countrymen.  He  had  gained  an  enviable 
l eputation  as  a man  of  much  learning,  sound  principles,  lib- 
eral views,  and  fearless  integrity.  In  1773-4-5  he  performed 
an  active  and  prominent  part  in  the  measures  of  opposition 
and  resistance  on  the  part  of  Maryland  to  the  aggressive  colo- 
nial policy  of  England  during  those  years. 

A Catholic  by  conviction  as  well  as  by  education,  Mr. 
Carroll,  in  common  with  the  Catholic  body  of  the  jountry, 
had  been  taught  to  revere  the  great  principles  of  liberty. 
They  were  familiar  with  the  fact  that  Cardinal  Langton  and 
the  Catholic  Barons  had  forced  the  tyrant  John  to  recog- 
nize and  affirm  the  Magna  Oharta.  They  had  been  taught 
to  respect  the  act  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  Pope  Zachary, 
in  denouncing  the  tyranny  of  taxation  without  representa- 
tion, centuries  before  the  Declaration  of  Independence  was 
penned.  They  cherished  the  same  great  principle,  because 
it  was  promulgated  in  that  glorious  charter  which  the  Cath- 
olic Peer,  Lord  Baltimore,  had  prepared  for  the  infant  col- 
ony of  Maryland.  The  established  recognition  of  the  great 
principles  of  the  American  Revolution  by  the  highest  Cath- 
olic  authorities  for  ages  will  account  for  the  historical  fact, 
that  the  Catholic  body  of  the  country  in  1776  ardently  and 
unanimously  espoused  the  cause  of  freedom  and  popular 
rights.  In  the  day  of  trial,  the  Catholic  Faith  proved  the 
grandeur  of  its  principles.  It  produced  no  Tories — no 
traitors — no  oppressors  of  their  country  ! 

From  the  very  beginning  Mr.  Carroll  grasped  the  princi- 
ples involved  in  the  contest,  and  advocated  complete  inde- 
pendence. We  are  told  that,  as  early  as  1771,  when  con- 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 


733 


versing,  on  one  occasion,  with  Mr.  Chase,  the  latter  remarked: 
^‘Carroll,  we  have  the  better  of  our  opponents — we  have 
completely  written  them  down . ” “Do  you  think,  ’ ’ returned 
Mr.  Carroll,  “that  writing  will  settle  the  question  between 
us  ? ” “ To  be  sure,”  replied  the  other.  “What  else  can  we 

resort  to  ? ” The  bayonet,”  was  the  answer ; “ our  arguments 
will  only  raise  the  feelings  of  the  people  to  that  pitch,  when 
open  war  will  be  looked  upon  as  the  arbiter  of  dispute.” 

Of  the  Revolutionary  War,  his  brave  words  written  in  1773 
to  Mr.  Graves  were  truly  prophetic,  and  showed  with  what 
fine  forecast  he  judged  the  American  people.  “The  British 
troops,  if  sent  here,”  he  wrote,  “ will  be  masters  but  of  the 
spot  on  which  they  encamp.  They  will  find  naught  but 
enemies  before  and  behind  them.  If  we  are  beaten  in 
the  plains,  we  will  retire  to  our  mountains  and  defy  them. 
Necessity  will  force  us  to  exertion,  until  tired  of  combating  in 
vain  against  a spirit  which  victory  after  victory  caunot  sub- 
due, your  armies  will  evacuate  our  soil,  and  your  country  re- 
tire an  immense  loser  from  the  contest.” 

Mr.  Carroll  took  an  active  part  in  the  repeal  of  the  odious 
laws  against  Catholics.  Those  enactments  still  disgraced 
the  statute-book.  In  1775  he  was  appointed  a member  of 
the  Maryland  “ Committee  to  'prepare  a declaration  of 
rights  and  form  of  Government  for  this  State.'''*  The  result 
was  that  the  great  principle  of  civil  and  religious  liberty, 
established  by  Lord  Baltimore,  was  again  restored  “in  the 
Land  of  the  Sanctuary.” 


CHAPTER  IL 

THE  VISIT  TO  CJLNADA. 

Congress  appoints  three  commissioners  to  msit  Canada — 
Instructions — The  commissioners  leave  New  York  on 
their  way  to  Canada — Extracts  from  Carroll's  Jour- 
nal"— Up  the  Hudson — At  Albany — Visiting  the  Falls 
on  the  Mohawk — Moore's  ^'■Lines'' — At  Montreal — Ex- 
amining the  condition  of  affairs — On  the  way  home — 
Failure  of  the  mission. 

In  accordance  with  a resolution  of  Congress,  early  in 
1776,  Benjamin  Franklin,  Samuel  Chase,  and  Charles  Car- 
roll  of  Carrollton  were  duly  commissioned  to  repair  to  Can- 
ada in  order  “to  promote  or  to  form  a union  between  the 
Colonies  and  the  people  of  Canada.”  These  gentlemen  re- 
ceived their  ample  instructions  on  the  20th  of  March,  and 
were  accompanied  by  the  Rev.  John  Carroll,  afterwards 
first  Bishop  and  Archbishop  of  Baltimore. 

Among  other  things  the  commissioners  were  told  to  rep- 
resent to  the  Canadians  that  the  arms  of  the  United  Colo- 
nies had  been  carried  into  that  province  for  the  purpose  of 
frustrating  the  designs  of  the  English  Government  against 
■ our  common  liberties ; and  that  we  expected  not  only  to 
defeat  the  hostile  machinations  of  Governor  Carleton 
against  us,  but  that  we  should  put  it  in  the  power  of  our 
Canadian  brethren  to  pursue  such  measures  for  securing 
their  own  freedom  and  happiness  as  a generous  love  of  lib- 
erty and  sound  policy  should  dictate  tO  them. 

They  were  directed  to  declare  that  we  held  sacred  the 
rights  of  conscience  ; and  should  promise  to  the  whole  jieo- 
ple  of  Canada,  solemnly,  in  the  name  of  Congress,  the  free 
and  undisturbed  exercise  of  their  religion ; and  to  the  clergy 
734 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 


73b 


the  full,  perfect,  and  peaceable  possession  and  enjoyment  of 
all  their  estates. 

They  were  also  desired  to  press  for  a convenrion  of  the 
people  which  would  bring  about  a union  with  the  Ameri- 
can colonies.  The  terms  of  the  union  should  be  similar  to 
those  of  the  other  colonies;  and,  if  our  terms  were  acceded 
to,  they  were  to  promise  our  defense  of  the  Canadians 
against  all  enemies. 

Armed  with  their  commission  and  instructions  the  famous 
travelers  left  New  York  City  on  the  2d  of  April,  but  were 
nearly  a month  in  reaching  Montreal. 

The  following  brief  extracts  from  the  “ Journal  of  Charles 
Carroll  of  Carrollton  during  his  visit  to  Canada  in  1776,  as 
one  of  the  Commissioners  from  Congress,”  a work  now  out 
of  print,  and  very  hard  to  find,  may  be  of  interest  to  the 
reader  at  this  point: 

“2(Z  April,  1776.  Left  New  York  at  5 o’clock  p.  m.  ; 
sailed  up  North  river,  or  Hudson’s,  that  afternoon  about 
thirteen  miles.  About  one  o’clock  in  the  night  were 
awaked  by  the  firing  of  cannon;  heard  three  great  guns  dis- 
tinctly from  the  Asia;  soon  saw  a great  fire,  which  we  pre- 
sumed to  be  a house  on  Bedloe’s  Island,  set  on  fire  by  a 
detachment  of  our  troops.  Intelligence  had  been  received 
that  the  enemy  were  throwing  up  intrenchments  on  that 
island,  and  it  had  been  determined  by  our  generals  to  drive 
them  off.  Dr.  Franklin  went  upon  deck,  and  saw  waving 
flashes  of  light  appearing  suddenly  and  disappearing,  which 
he  conjectured  to  be  the  fire  of  musquetry,  although  he 
could  not  hear  the  report. 

“7^/i.  Weighed  anchor  this  morning  about  six  o clock. 
Wind  fair;  having  passed  over  the  overslaw,  had  a distinct 
view  of  Albany,  distant  about  two  miles.  Landed  at  Al- 
bany at  half-past  seven  o’clock;  received  at  landing  by 
General  Schuyler, who,  understanding  we  were  coming  up, 
came  from  his  house,  about  a mile  out  of  town,  to  receive 
us  and  invite  us  to  dine  with  him ; he  behaved  with  great 


> General  Philip  Schuyler  was  one  of  the  most  distinguished  soldievs  of  the  Revolution.  H« 
Was  bom  at  Albany  in  1733,  and  died  in  1801. 


736  CHARLEa  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 

civility ; lives  in  pretty  style , has  two  daughters  (Betsy 
and  Peggy),  lively,  agreeable,  black-eyed  girls.  Albany 
is  situated  partly  on  a level,  and  partly  on  the  slope  of  a 
hill,  or  rising  ground,  on  the  west  side  of  the  river.  Ves- 
sels drawing  eight  and  nine  feet  water  may  come  to  Albany, 
and  hve  miles  even  beyond  it,  at  this  season  of  the  year, 
when  the  waters  are  out.  The  fort  is  in  a ruinous  condi- 
tion, and  not  a single  gun  mounted  on  it.  There  are  more 
houses  in  this  town  than  in  Annapolis, ' and  I believe  it  to  be 
much  more  populous.  The  citizens  chiefly  speak  Dutch, 
being  mostly  the  descendants  ei  Dutchmen  ; but  the  English 
language  and  maiinerc  arc  o-etting  ground  apace. 

‘ 9ith.  Left  Albany  early  this  morning,  and  traveled  in  a 
wagon  in  company  with  Mrs.  Schuyler,  her  two  daughters, 
and  Generals  Schuyler  and  Thomas.  At  six  miles  from  Al- 
bany I quitted  the  wagon,  and  got  on  horseback  to  accom- 
pany the  Generals  to  view  the  falls  on  the  Mohawk  river, 
called  the  Cohooes.  The  perpendicular  fall  is  seventy- four 
feet,  and  the  breadth  of  the  river  at  this  place,  as  measured 
by  General  Schuyler,  is  one  thousand  feet.  The  fall  is  con- 
siderably above  one  hundred  feet,  taken  from  the  first  rip- 
ple or  still  water  above  the  perpendicular  fall.  The  river 
was  swollen  with  the  melting  snows  and  rains,  and  rolled 
over  the  frightful  precipice  an  impetuous  torrent.  The 
foam,  the  irregularities  in  the  fall,  broken  by  projecting 
rocks,  and  the  deafening  noise,  presented  a sublime  but  terri- 
fying spectacle.  At  fifty  yards  from  the  place  the  water 
dropped  fre  m the  trees,  as  it  does  from  a plentiful  shower, 
they  being  as  wet  with  the  ascending  vapor  as  they  com- 
monly are  after  a smart  rain  of  some  continuance.” 

The  great  poet  Moore  also  visited  these  falls,  and  used 
his  charmed  pen  to  immortalize  the  scene.  The  following 
are  his  “ Lines  written  at  the  Cohos,  or  Falls  of  the  Mohawk 
river”- 

From  rise  of  morn  till  set  of  sun 

I’ve  seen  the  mighty. Mohawk  run  ; 

And  as  I mark’d  the  woods  of  pine 


* The  capital  of  Maryland. 


ift.lii'lLnviffS’.iji  “l"'!5,'!j;g-,^';.l]f,rt  - 

Si'  ■ ™ “■*  '*1^'' '^■ii'^":“ilb''l'H'i^'  '■  ‘w 


ijsrj'j'ii.ivf.- 


"LWP'Tianii.  iJ+f  'r‘. 


f 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OL  CARROLLTOH. 


737 


I Along  his  mirror  darkly  shine, 

Like  tall  and  gloomy  forms  that  pass 
‘ Before  the  wizard’s  midnight  glass  ; 

t And  as  I view’d  the  hurrying  pace 

With  which  he  ran  his  turbid  race. 

Rushing  alike,  untir’d  and  wild. 

Through  shades  that  frown’d  and  flowers  that  smil’d, 
Flying  by  every  green  recess 
That  woo’d  him  to  its  calm  caress, 

. Yet,  sometimes  turning  with  the  wind. 

As  if  to  leave  one  look  behind, — 

Oft  have  I thought,  and  thinking  sigh’d. 

How  like  to  thee,  thou  restless  tide. 

May  be  the  lot,  the  life  of  him 
Who  roams  along  the  water’s  brim  ; 

Through  what  alternate  wastes  of  woe 
And  flowers  of  joy  my  path  may  go  ; 

How  many  a shelter’d  calm  retreat 
May  woo  the  while  my  weary  feet. 

While  still  pursuing,  still  unblest, 

I wander  on,  nor  dare  to  rest  ; 

But  urgent  as  the  doom  that  calls 
Thy  water  to  its  destin’d  falls, 

I feel  the  world’s  bewildering  force 
Hurry  my  heart’s  devoted  course. 

From  lapse  to  lapse,  till  life  be  done, 

And  the  spent  current  cease  to  run.  - ^ 

One  only  prayer  I dare  to  make, 

As  onward  thus  my  course  I take  ; — 

O ! be  my  falls  as  bright  as  thine. 

May  Heaven’s  relenting  rainbow  shine 
Upon  the  mist  that  circles  me. 

As  soft  as  now  it  hangs  o’er  thee  ! • 

. . . From  La  Prairie  you  go  slanting  down  tho 
fiver  to  Montreal;  this  passage  is  computed  six  miles, 
though  the  river,  in  a direct  line  across  from  the  eastern 
shore  to  the  town,  is  not  more  than  three  miles.  Ships  of 

• There  is  a dreary  and  savage  character  in  the  country  immediately  ahont  these  Palis,  which 
ia  mneh  more  in  harmony  with  the  wildness  of  such  a scene  than  the  cnltivated  lands  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Niagara.  See  the  drawing  of  them  in  Mr.  Weld’s  hook.  According  to  him,  the 
perpendicular  height  of  the  Cohos  Fall  is  fifty  feet ; hut  the  Marquis  de  Chaatelluz  makes  It 
•eventy-sii. 

The  fine  rainbow,  which  is  continually  forming  and  dissolving,  as  the  spray  rises  into  the 
light  of  the  sun,  is  perhaps  the  most  interesting  beauty  which  these  wonderfv ' estaracts  exhibit 
—Moore's  not*. 


738  Charles  carroll  of  carrolltoft. 

three  hundred  tons  can  come  up  to  Montreal;  but  they  can 
not  get  up  above  the  town,  or  even  abreast  of  it.'  The  rivei 
where  we  crossed  is  filled  with  rocks  and  shoals,  which  occa- 
sion a very  rapid  current  in  several  places.  We  were  re- 
ceived by  Greneral  Arnold,  on  :)ui  landing,  in  the  most  po- 
lite and  friendly  manner;  conducted  to  headquarters,  where 
a geijteel  company  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  had  assembled  to 
welcome  our  arrival.  As  wc  went  from  the  landing-place  to 
the  General’s  house,  the  cannon  of  the  citadel  fired  in  com- 
pliment to  us  as  the  Commissioners  of  Congress.  We 
supped  at  the  General’s,  and  after  supper  were  conducted  by 
the  General  and  other  gentlemen  to  our  lodgings — the  house 
of  Mr.  Themas  V/ alker — the  best  built,  and  perhaps  the 
best  furnished  in  this  town. 

.“13^7i  {May}.  I went  to  St.  Jonn’s  to  examine  into  the 
state  of  that  garrison,  and  of  the  batteaux.  There  I met 
with  creneral  Thompson  and  Colonel  Sinclair,  with  part  Oi 
Thompson’s  brigade.  That  evening  I went  with  them  down 
the  Sorel  to  Chamblay. 

{Alay).  This  day  Mr.  Chase  set  off  with  me  for  the 
mouth  of  t.  e Sorel , wc  emoarked  from  ivlontreal  in  one  of 
our  oatteaux,  and  went  n ic  as  far  as  tne  jioint  of  land  on 
the  north  shore  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  oi)posite  to  the  north- 
ern extremity  of  the  Island  of  Montreal ; here,  the  wind 
being  against  us,  we  took  post  and  traveled  on  the  north 
side  of  the  St.  Lawrence  as  low  down  as  La  Aore,  where  we 
got  into  a canoe,  and  were  paddled  down  and  across  the  St. 
Lawrence  to  our  camp  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel.  It  was  a 
perfect  calm.  The  distance  is  computed  .it  nine  miles.  The 
country  on  eacn  side  of  the  St.  Lawrence  is  level,  rich,  and 
thickly  seated ; indeed,  so  thickly  seated  that  the  houses 
form  almost  one  continual  row.  In  going  from  La  Nore  to 
the  mouth  of  the  Sorel,  we  passed  by  Brown’s  battery  ( as  it 
is  called),  although  it  never  had  a cannon  mounted  on  it. 


* There  has  been  quite  a change  since  the  above  was  written.  Montreal  is  now  the  head  of  ship 
navigation  on  the  St.  Cawrence;  and  ocean  steamers  not  only  of  “three  hundred  tons’’  but  of 
three  thousand  tons  lie  alongside  its  splendid  stone  wharves. 


* The  Richelieu  rivet 


CHARLES  CARROLL  'OF  CARROLLTON. 


739 


To  this  battery  without  a cannon,  and  to  a single  gon- 
dola, ten  or  twelve  vessels,  under  the  command  of  Colonel 
Prescott,  surrendered.  Major  Brown,  when  the  vessels 
came  near  to  his  battery,  sent  an  officer  on  board,  requesting 
Prescott  to  send  anocher  on  shore  to  view  his  works.  It  is  dif- 
ficult to  determine  which  was  the  greatest,  the  impudence 
of  Brown  in  demanding  a surrender,  or  the  cowardice  of 
the  officer,  who,  going  back  to  Prescott,  represented  the  dif- 
ficulty of  passing  the  battery  as  so  great  and  hazardous  that 
Prescott  and  all  his  officers  chose  to  capitulate.  Brown  re- 
quested the  officer  who  went  on  shore  to  wait  a little  until 
he  saw  the  two  thirty- two  pounders,  which  were  within  half 
a mile,  coming  from  Chamblay  ; says  he  : “If  you  should 
chance  to  escape  this  battery,  which  is  my  small  battery, 
I have  a grand  battery  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sorel,  which  will 
infallibly  sink  all  your  vessels.”  His  grand  battery  was  as 
badly  provided  with  cannon  as  his  little  battery,  for  not  a 
single  gun  was  mounted  in  either.  This  Prescott  treated  our 
prisonerc  with  great  insolence  and  brutality.  His  behavior 
justifies  the  old  observation,  that  cowards  are  generally 
cruel.  We  found  the  discipline  of  our  camp  very  remiss, 
and  everything  in  confusion.  General  Thomas  had  but 
lately  resigned  the  command  to  Thompson,  by  whose  activ- 
ity things  were  soon  put  on  a better  footing. 

“29^4  {May).  We  left  Montreal  this  day  at  three  o’clock, 
to  go  to  Chamblay,  to  be  present  at  a council  of  war  of  the 
general  and  field-officers,  for  concerting  the  operations  of  the 
campaign. 

“30^^  (3/ay).  The  council  of  war  was  held  this  day, 
and  determined  to  maintain  possession  of  the  country  be- 
tween the  St.  Lawrence  and  Sorel,  if  possible  ; in  the  mean- 
time to  dispose  matters  so  as  to  make  an  orderly  retreat 
out  of  Canada. 

'‘'‘June  1st.  Crossed  over  this  morning  to  St.  John’s,  where 
General  Sullivan,  with  fourteen  hundred  men,  had  arrived 
in  the  night  of  the  31st  past ; saw  them  all  under  arms. 
It  began  to  rain  at  nine  o’clock,  and  continued  raining 
very  hard  until  late  in  the  evening  ; slept  at  Donaho’s. 


Jy40  CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 

“3e^.  . . . Grot  to  Crown  Point  (N^.Y.)  at  half- past  six: 

o’clock  p.  M.  Set  off  at  eight,  rowed  all  night,  and  arrived 
at  one  o’clock  in  the  night  at  Ticonderoga,  where  we  found 
General  Schuyler. 

“ Qth.  Parted  with  General  Schuyler  this  morning  ; he 
returned  to  Fort  George,  on  Lake  George.  We  rode  to  Sara- 
toga, where  we  got  by  seven  o’clock,  but  did  not  find  the 
amiable  family  at  home.  We  were  constrained  to  remain 
here  all  this  day,  waiting  the  arrival  of  our  servants  and 
baggage. 

“9^A.  Arrived  at  New  York  at  one  o’clock  p.  m. 
Waited  on  General  Washington  at  Mo  tier’s;  saw  Generals 
Gates  and  Putnam,  and  my  old  acquaintance  and  friend, 
Mr.  Moylan.” 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  add  that  the  visit  of  Charles 
Carroll  of  Carrollton  and  his  fellow  commissioners  to  Can- 
ada failed  in  its  object ; but  the  failure  was  not  owing  to 
the  want  of  zeal,  ability,  or  any  other  qualification  on  the 
part  of  the  envoys. 


CHAPTER  III. 

glancbs  at  ak  illustrious  career. 

Patriotic  labors  in  Maryland— Signing  the  immortal  Dec- 
laration— Glimpses  of  Mr.  CarrolV s public  life — His 
character  as  a public  man — a Catholic — “ The  year 
of  Jubilee''’ — Receiving  the  united  homage  of  the  coun- 
try— His  death — A picture  of  the  closing  scene — His 
favorite  books — His  opinion  of  religion. 

Having  returned  home,  Mr.  Carroll  used  the  whole  weight 
of  hig  influence  to  induce  Maryland  to  Join  the  other  colo- 
nies in  declaring  for  complete  independence.  He  was  en- 
tirely successful. 

In  1776  he  had  the  honor  of  being  chosen  to  represent  his 
native  State  in  the  Continental  Congress.  As  he  wrote 
Charles  Carroll.,  in  a clear,  bold  hand,  at  the  foot  of  the 
document  containing  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  a 
colleague  remarked  : “ There  go  millions.”*  No,”  replied 
another,  “there  are  several  Charles  Carrolls,  and  he  can- 
not be  identified.”  Mr.  Carroll,  on  hearing  this,  immediately 
added  to  his  signature  “0/  Carrollton,"  the  name  of  the 


* Mr.  Carroll  was  a wealthy  man  for  those  days,  and  shipped  largely,  and  imported  whatever 
was  required  for  the  supply  of  the  manor  direct  from  England,  even  down  to  the  clothes  worn 
by  the  family.  The  slaves  wore  homespun,  as  did  many  of  the  poorer  classes,  and  as’  did  Mr. 
Carroll  also  at  one  period  of  his  life,  when  it  was  resolved  by  the  colonies  to  wear  nothing  and 
consume  nothing  coming  from  Great  Britain.  An  estimate  of  his  property,  made  in  1764,  ii 


worth  giving.  It  was  made  by  his  own  hand : 

40,000  Acres  of  Land,  two  country  seats £40,000 

SiO  Houses  at  Annapolis 4,000 

286  Slaves,  at  an  average  of  £30  each 8,550 

Stock  on  Plantations 1,000 

Household  Plate 600 

Debts  Outstanding 24,230 


— The  Magazim  of  American  Eistory,  Vol.  II.  £78,380 


This  is  equal  to  about  half  a million  dollars  at  the  present  time. 


741 


742 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 


estate  oa  which  he  resided,  remarking  as  he  did  so : “ They 
cannot  mistake  me  now  / ” 

He  was  elected  a member  of  the  Board  of  War.  He  also 
continued  an  active  and  influential  member  of  the  Conti- 
nental Congress  till  1778,  when  the  treaty  with  France  qui- 
eted all  his  fears  for  the  success  of  American  independence ; 
and  feeling  that  hiis  duty  as  a State  Senator  summoned  him 
to  Annapolis,  he  resigned  his  seat  in  Congress,  and  resumed 
that  in  the  Maryland  Senate.  In  1788,  Mr.  Carroll  was 
elected  United  States  Senator  from  Maryland,  under  the  new 
Federal  Constitution.  He  was  again  elected  to  the  Mary- 
land Senate  in  1791,  remaining  a member  till  1801.  Iii  that 
year,  upon  the  defeat  of  the  Federal  party,  to  which  he  be- 
longed, Mr.  Carroll  retired  into  private  life,  being  then  in 
his  sixty- third  year. 

During  thirty  years  passed  in  public  life,  embracing  the 
most  eventful  period  of  the  history  of  the  United  States, 
Mr.  Carroll,  as  a politician,  was  quick  to  decide  and  prompt 
to  execute.  His  measures  were  open  and  energetic.  He 
was  more  inclined  to  exceed  than  fall  below  the  end  which 
he  proposed.  As  a speaker  he  was  concise  and  animated  ; 
the  advantages  of  travel  and  society  made  him  graceful ; 
books,  habits  of  study,  and  acute  observation  made  him 
impressive  and  instructive.  As  a writer  he  was  remarkably 
dignified  ; his  arrangement  was  regular  : his  style  was  full 
without  being  diffuse,  and  though  highly  argumentative, 
was  prevented  from  being  dull  by  the  vein  of  polite  learn- 
ing which  was  visible  throughout. ' 

But  it  was  as  a practical  and  uncompromising  Catholic 
that  we  would  speak  of  this  venerable  man.  At  his  family 
residence  he  had  an  elegant  chapel  erected.  Divine  service 
was  held  regularly,  and  he  was  always  one  of  the  most  de- 
vout worshipers.  He  possessed  that  charming  faith  and 
simplicity  of  the  little  child,  so  extolled  by  our  Blessed 
Lord.  Eye-witnesses  have  described  it  as  a truly  touching 
sight,  to  see  the  aged  form  of  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton 


* L«tit>be. 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTOH. 


743 


kneeling  and  bent  in  prayer  before  the  altar  in  the  chapel 
at  Doughoregan  Manor ; and  to  behold  the  illustrious 
patrljt  and  statesman,  at  the  advanced  age  of  eighty 
and  upwards,  serving  the  priest  at  the  altar  during  the 
Holy  Mass. 

In  1829,  the  assembled  Bishops  of  the  First  Council  of 
Baltimore  went  to  i)ay  their  respects  to  the  grand  old 
man.  He  received  them  with  graceful  dignity,  and  was 
deeply  affected  at  the  compliment  paid  him. 

It  has  been  beautifully  remarked  that  “like  the  books 
of  the  Sybil,  the  living  signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Indepen- 
dence increased  in  value  as  they  decreased  in  number.” 
Many  were  the  testimonials  of  affection  which  a grateful  na- 
tion laid  at  the  feet  of  Carroll.  We  cite  only  one  such 
tribute : 

DEPARTMENT  OF  STATE,  | 
Washingtox,  24th  June,  1824.  j 

“7b  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton : 

“Sir, — In  pursuance  of  a joint  resolution  of  the  two 
Houses  of  Congress,  a copy  of  which  is  hereto  annexed,  and 
by  direction  of  the  President  of  the  United  States,  I have  the 
honor  of  transmitting  to  you  two  facsimile  copies  of  the 
original  Declaration  of  Independence,  engrossed  on  parch- 
ments, conformable  to  a secret  resolution  of  Congress  of 
19th  July,  1776,  to  be  signed  by  every  n)em her  of  Congress, 
and  accordingly  signed  on  the  2d  day  of  August,  of  the  same 
year.  Of  this  document,  unparalleled  in  the  annals  of  man- 
kind, the  original,  deposited  in  this  department,  exhibits 
your  name  as  one  of  the  subscribers.  The  rolls  herewith 
transmitted  are  copies,  as  exact  as  the  art  of  engraving 
can  present,  of  the  instrument  itself,  as  well  as  of  the  sign- 
ers to  it. 

“While  performing  the  duty  thus  assigned  me,  permit  me 
tQ  felicitate  you,  and  the  country  which  is  reaping  the  re- 
ward of  your  labors,  as  well  that  your  hand  was  affixed  to 
this  record  of  glory,  as  that,  after  the  lapse  of  near  half  a 
century,  you  survive  to  receive  this  tribute  of  reverence  and 


744 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 


gratitude  from  your  children,  the  present  fathers  of  the 
land. 

“ With  every  sentiment  of  veneration,  I have  the  honor  of 
subscribing  myself  your  fellow-citizen, 

“John  Quincy  Adams.” 

While  the  whole  nation  was  celebrating  the  fiftieth  anni- 
versary of  American  Independence,  on  the  4th  of  July,  1826. 
“the  year  of  Jubilee,”  there  remained  but  three  surviving 
signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence — Thomas  Jeffer- 
son, John  Adams,  and  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton.  These 
three  names  were  mingled  with  the  songs  of  national  joy, 
and  saluted  with  peals  of  artillery.  But  two  of  the  illustri- 
ous trio  saw  not  another  sun.  Adams  and  Jefferson  passed 
from  the  scenes  of  earth  that  same  day.  Charles  Carroll 
alone  remained — sole  survivor  of  the  fifty-six  patriots  of 
3776  ! 

The  undivided  homage  of  the  United  States  was  now 
reserved  for  the  last  of  that  glorious  baud.  In  the  words 
of  Lossing,  “the  good  and  the  great  made  pilgrimages 
to  his  dwelling  to  behold  with  their  own  eyes  the  vener- 
able political  patriarch  of  America ; and  from  the  rich 
storehouse  of  his  intellect  he  freely  contributed  to  the 
deficiencies  of  others.”  * Six  years  more  rolled  by,  and 
the  great  and  good  Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton  went  to 
receive  the  reward  of  the  faithful  servant.  “Death  soft- 
ly touched  him  and  he  passed  away,”  on  the  14th  day 
of  November,  1832. 

We  give  a picture  of  the  closing  scene  of  his  life.  It  is 
from  an  eye-witness  of  it,  who  died  but  a year  or  two  ago — 
Dr.  Richard  Stewart.  It  was  towards  sundown  in  the 
month  of  November,  and  very  cold  weather.  In  a large 
room  in  his  town-house  on  Lombard  street — his  bedroom — 

a group  of  inmates  of  his  household  was  gathered  before  a 

# 

• All  the  Britieh  Ministers  who  were  sent  to  the  National  capital,  the  attaches,  and  nearly  every 
prominent  Englishman  who  visited  this  country,  were  guests  of  Mr.  Carroll  at  Doughoregan  ; and 
Washington,  Lafayette,  Decatur,  Jackson,  Taney,  and  other  distinguished  Americans  were  wel 
corned  there. — Magazin4  0f  Arntrican  Hisiory^Vol.  II. 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTON. 


745 


large  open  fire-place.  The  venerable  Charles  Carroll  was 
reclining  in  a soft,  padded  arm-chair.  In  the  center  of  the 
space  before  him  was  a table,  with  blessed  candles,  an  an- 
tique silver  bowl  of  holy  water, . and  a crucifix.  By  his 
side  stood  his  spiritual  friend,  the  Rev.  John  M.  J.  Chanche, 
afterwards  first  Bishop  of  K^atchez,  in  his  rich  robes, 
prepared  to  administer  the  last  consolations  of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

On  each  side  of  the  chair  knelt  children  and  grandchil- 
dren, with  some  friends,  and  just  in  the  rear,  three  or  four 
old  negro  servants  were  devoutly  on  their  knees.  The  ven- 
erable Carroll  had,  for  a long  time,  been  suffering  with  weak 
eyesight,  and  could  not  endure  the  proximity  of  the  lights. 
He  leaned  back  with  half- closed  eyes.  The  solemn  cere- 
mony proceeded  and  ended ; the  illustrious  old  man  was 
lifted  back  to  his  bed,  but  he  had  fasted  to  receive  the  Holy 
Sacrament,  and  was  too  weak  to  rally.  His  last  words 
were,  “Thank  you.  Doctor,”  on  being  lifted  into  an  easier 
position,  and  he  died  quickly,  mindful  to  the  last  of  others 
— tranquilly — a Christian  gentleman.  And  thus  died  the 
“ Last  of  the  Signers”  and  one  of  the  Catholic  heroes  of  the 
American  Revolution. 

Charles  Carroll  of  Carrollton  had  a well-selected  but  old- 
fashioned  library.  He  cared  little  for  modern  works. 
Among  the  valued  books  referred  to  in  his  letters,  we 
notice  Bossuet’s  famous  “History  of  the  Variations  of  the 
Protestant  Churches,”  and  the  Abbe  McGeoghegan’s  “His- 
tory of  Ireland.”  Milner’s  “End  of  Controversy”  was  one 
of  his  favorites.  In  his  last  years  he  also  passed  considerable 
time  with  Cicero’s  “De  Senectute,”  which  he  grew  to  love 
so  much  as  to  write  to  a friend,  “After  the  Bible  read 
Cicero.” 

Not  long_  before  his  passage  to  a better  world,  he  uttered 
these  remarkable  words  : “I  have  lived  to  my  ninety-sixth 
year ; I have  enjoyed  continued  health  ; I have  been  blessed 
with  great  wealth,  prosperity,  and  most  of  the  good  things 
which  the  world  can  bestow — public  approbation,  esteem, 
applause.  But  what  I now  look  back  on  with  the  greatest 


746 


CHARLES  CARROLL  OF  CARROLLTOM. 


satisfaction  to  myself  is,  that  I have  'practiced  the  duties 
of  my  religion." ' 


*Dr.  E.  H.  Clarke  states  that  in  the  copy  of  Sanderson’s  “Lives  of  the  Signers,”  Vol.  n.,  in  the 
Baltimore  Library,  the  following  memorandum  is  written  at  the  end  of  Carroll’s  Life  by  the  au- 
thor, the  accomplished  Mr.  Latrobe  : “ The  foregoing  biographical  sketch  was  written  by  me  in 
1826  from  memoranda  (autograph)  furnished  by  Mr.  Carroll,  and  numerous  conversations.  When 
finished  I read  it  to  him,  and  his  remark,  verbatim,  was  : ‘Well,  Mr.  Latrobe,  you  have  certainly 
made  me  out  a much  greater  man  than  ever  I found  myself  to  be  ; and,  yet,  really,  I hardly  think 
that  the  facts  you  have  stated  are  otherwise  than  strictly  true.’  He  was  then,  I think,  in  hie 
ninetieth  year ; cheerful,  vivacions  even,  and  carefnlly  attentive  to  his  business  matters. 
'■jtaUimore,  April  ^Hih,  ItifitS.  H.  B. 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUT^; 


CHAPTER  1. 

A WISE  YOUTH  IN  WILD  TIMES. 

Birth  and  family — Death  of  Mr.  Brute — A good  mother 
— Recollections  of  a pious  Confessor — The  first  prayer- 
hook — First  Communion — Young  Brute  as  a student — 
His  wide  range  of  studies — The  study  of  medicine — 
Graduates  with  the  highest  honors — Enters  the  semin- 
ary—Is  raised  to  the  priesthood — Becomes  professor — 
Goes  to  America. 

Just  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  years  after  the  illustri- 
ous Father  Jogues,  S.  J.,  had  visited  Rennes,  bearing  on  his 
person  cruel  marks  of  Mohawk  barbarity,  there  was  born  in 
the  same  city’  a child  who  was  destined  one  day  to  make 
his  name  forever  famous  in  the  annals  of  the  Catholic 
Church  in  the  United  States.  It  was  Simon  Gabriel  Brute. 
His  birthday  was  the  20th  of  March,  1779.  He  belonged  to 
an  ancient  and  very  respectable  family.  His  father,  Simon 
Gabriel  Brute,  was  Superintendent  of  the  royal  domains  in 
Brittany  ; and  we  have  every  evidence  that  his  mother, 
Jane  Renee  le  Saulnier,  was  a lady  of  gi’eat  piety,  intelli- 
gence, and  force  of  character. 


• Chief  authorities  used  : Bayley,  “ Memoir  of  Bishop  Brute  Clarke,  “ Lives  of  the  de- 
ceased Bishops  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States;’’  McCaffrey,  “Discourse  on  the 
Right  Rev.  S.  G.  Brute  ;’’  White,  “ Life  of  Mrs.  E.  A.  Seton  ;’’  Hassard,  “ Life  of  Archbishop 
Hughes  ;’’  and  “A  Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States.’’ 

’ Rennes  was  the  capital  of  the  province  of  Brittany.  At  the  present  time  it  has  a popolatios 
of  about  46,000. 


747 


748 


BIGHT  RET.  SIHON  GABRIEL  BRET  A 


Simon  Grabriel  was  but  seven  years  of  age  when  bis  father 
died,  leaving  his  business  affairs  in  an  embarrassed  con- 
dition. It  was  a great  misfortune.  The  family  prospects 
were  blasted,  and  a hard,  weighty  responsibility  fell  on  Mrs. 
Brute.  But  she  was  not  unequal  to  the  burden.  She  seems 
to  have  been  a wise  woman,  whose  tact  and  common  sense 
made  her  equal  to  the  duties  of  this  world,  without  ever 
leading  her  to  forget  the  things  of  Heaven.  Such  was  the  good 
educator  who  had  the  first  hand  in  moulding  the  tender, 
plastic  character  of  the  future  Bishop. 

Nor  was  he  less  fortunate  in  his  first  confessor.  “My 
first  confessor,”  he  wrote,  many  years  after,  “was  Mr.  Carron, 
vicar  of  the  Parish  of  St.  Germain,  then  a very  youn^ 
priest,  but  already  so  remarkable  for  his  exemplary  life  and 
most  fervent  piety,  that  he  was  called  the  AUbe  Terese  in  al- 
lusion to  St.  Teresa. 

‘ ‘ This  was  soon  after  the  death  of  my  father,  when  I was 
about  eight  years  old.  I remember  well  that  the  first 
time  I went  to  confession  to  him,  he  gave  me — as  I left 
his  confessional,  which  stood  in  the  chapel  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin — a little  book  in  French,  entitled  The  Death  of  Abel. 
As  I was  retiring  he  came  out  of  the  confessional,  and  gave 
me  the  book.  I remember  his  face  as  it  appeared  at  that 
moment,  with  such  an  expression  of  amiability  and  piety 
upon  it. 

“I  was  his  penitent  for  several  years,  until  1791,  the 
last  year  of  the  free  exercise  of  religion  in  France,  dur- 
ing which  year  I had  the  happiness  of  making  my  First 
Communion.  I went  regular  to  confession,  but  up  to  that 
time,  thanks  be  to  God,  my  excellent  mother,  and  I must 
add  excellent  teachers,  I had  little  to  confess.  Although  I 
had  attended  the  public  schools  for  four  or  five  years,  I was 
an  entire  stranger  to  all  improper  notions  ; and  my  chief 
matter  of  reproach,  at  the  time  of  making  my  general  confes- 
sion for  First  Communion,  was  the  having  taken  an  apple 
from  the  stand  of  an  old  fruit- woman. 

“During  the  same  interval,  I learned  my  catechism  at 
school,  though  at  times  I attended  the  public  catechism  at 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


749 


the  parish  church,  to  recite  portions  of  the  Holy  Scripture, 
which  we  learned  by  heart.  I remember  that  on  one  occa- 
sion, having  repeated  the  history  of  the  sacrifice  of  Abraham, 
I obtained,  as  a reward,  quite  a large  print  of  the  Annunci- 
ation., pasted  on  a board  with  a margin  of  gilt  paper  around 
it.  It  hung  for  long  years  by  the  side  of  my  bed,  and  I can 
still  call  to  mind  the  strange,  vivid  associations  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  and  good  Father  Carron,  in  my  childish  impressions 
of  piety  and  holiness  of  life. 

“ My  first  prayer-book  also  made  a great  impression  on 
my  mind.  It  was  a Paroissien,  bound  in  green  morocco, 
with  gilt  edges,  and  was  given  to  me  on  the  very  day  of  my 
father’s  funeral,  February  28th,  1786.  I had  long  desired 
to  have  one,  and  I presume  there  was  not  a little  vanity 
mixed  up  with  the  devotion  with  which  I followed  the  Mass 
and  office  in  my  beautiful  prayer-book,  at  the  college  and 
the  parish  church.  I had  it  in  my  possession  twenty  years 
afterwards,  with  its  broken  covers,  defaced  binding,  and 
some  torn  leaves  ; but  I lost  it  somehow  or  other  in  my  many 
journeyings. 

“I  made  my  first  Communion,  as  I have  said,  in  1791. 
There  were  about  200  of  us  of  the  first  or  second  Commun- 
ion— for  it  was  the  excellent  custom  of  those  times  to  make 
the  second  Communion  with  the  same  preparation  as  the 
first,  after  a short  spiritual  retreat.  I thank  Thee,  O my 
God ! for  the  state  of  innocence  and  piety  I was  in  the  day 
I performed  this  most  important  act.” 

Young  Brute  was  a hard,  earnest  student.  His  ways  were 
kind  and  winning.  An  astonishing  memory  and  a lively 
imagination  made  him  appear  unusually  bright.  He  pursued 
his  studies  under  private  teachers  when  the  troubles  and 
terrors  of  the  Revolution ' closed  the  College  of  Rennes. 

“ He  acquired  in  boyhood  and  youth,”  says  the  venerable 


• France  was  then,  by  her  own  terrific  example  teaching  the  world  a great  moral  and  religious 
lesson.  Her  revolutionary  rulers  had  proscribed  Christianity,  and  made  infidelity  and  impiety  the 
law  of  the  land.  History  has  toid  ns  the  horrors  that  ensued.  While  this  unhappy  country 
was  deluged  with  the  blood  of  her  best  and  noblest  sons,  while  the  Cross  was  tom  from  its  ele- 
vation and  trampled  in  the  dust,  while  churches  were  pillaged  and  desecrated,  and  ihe  faithful 
•bliged,  as  the  primitive  martyrs,  to  meet  in  silence  and  darkness,  at  the  risk  of  their  lives,  for 


750 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUT^. 


Dr.  McCaffrey,  “habits  of  study,  of  close  and  patient  m«rn- 
tal  application,  which  he  retained  through  life.  In  spite  of 
that  modesty  which  prevented  him  from  ever  speaking  in 
his  own  praise,  I could  learn  from  a long  and  intimate  acquaint- 
ance with  him,  and  from  the  testimony  of  others,  that,  in 
the  public  schools  of  his  native  city,  he  was  distinguished, 
and  eminently  successful. 

“His  after  life  proved  it.  His  mind  was  too  rich  in  treas- 
ures of  classic  lore,  too  amply  furnished  from  the  armories 
of  science,  for  him  to  have  been  a dull  or  careless  student. 
Whether  he  conversed  with  a friend,  or  lectured  to  a class, 
or  heralded  the  message  of  salvation  from  a pulpit,  the  evi- 
dences of  profound  knowledge,  as  well  as  of  remarkable 
genius,  incessantly  flashed  before  yon. 

“Wlmtever  he  once  read  or  studied  he  remembered. 
Even  in  the  last  years  of  his  life,  when  his  attention  seemed  to 
be  absorbed  in  theology,  and  other  branches  of  ecclesiasti- 
cal learning,  he  recited  with  ease  all  the  Fables  of  La  Fon- 
taine, entire  scenes  of  Racine,  Corneille,  and  the  finest  pas- 
sages of  the  other  French  writers,  or  of  the  Latin  poets. 
Though  less  familiar  with  the  Greek  classics,  he  had  read 
them  with  advantage  as  well  as  pleasure,  and  turned  to  good 
account  his  knowledge  of  the  language,  in  the  study  of  the 
Greek  Fathers  of  the  Church. 

“At  one  time  he  had  in  view  to  enter  the  French  Foly- 
technic  School,  and  for  this  reason  he  pursued  a very  exten- 
sive course  of  mathematical  science.  Subsequently  he  had 
the  best  opportunities,  in  the  medical  schools  of  Paris,  of  pen- 
etrating deeply  into  the  mysteries  of  chemistry  and  natural 

the  celebration  of  the  divine  mysteries,  while  the  priests  who  had  not  been  exiled  or  guillotined 
were  hunted  as  wild  beasts,  shot  down  in  the  fields,  hung  to  the  lamp-posts,  or  reserved  for  the 
slow  tortures  and  solemn  mockeries  of  judicial  murder  ; the  prisons  were  every  wbe/e  crowded  with 
those  who  were  too  noble-minded  to  conceal  or  abjure  their  Faith,  and  these  heroic  sufferers  were 
refused  the  consolations  of  religion,  or  could  receive  them  only  from  such  as  wei  / willing  to  stake 
their  lives  upon  the  charitable  mission.  Simon  Gabriel  Brute,  then  but  a boy  of  tender  years, 
with  a full  knowledge  of  the  risk  he  ran,  and  with  his  fond  mother’s  hearty  conex-nt,  was  employed 
to  convey  the  Blessed  Sacrament  to  the  prisoners  in  his  native  town  of  Rennes.  In  the  disguise 
of  a baker’s  boy,  protected  only  by  his  innoceTice  and  premature  discretion,  or  rather  by  his  good 
angel,  who  fondly  bore  him  company  on  such  errands,  he  supplied  the  victims  of  persecution  not 
only  with  the  bread  which  nourishes  the  body,  but  with  the  Bread  of  Angels,  the  food  which 
gives  life  to  the  sonl.— Dr.  McCaffrey —YorinTiher  details  see  Brute’s  Recollections  of  the 
French  Revolution  in  Archbishop  Bayley’s  Memoirs^  pp.  10^258. 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


751 


philosophy.  He  improved  them  with  his  usual  diligence. 

“While  he  devoted  himself  to  severer  studies,  he  gave 
some  share  of  attention  to  music  and  drawing ; and  in  the 
latter  of  these  accomplishments  he  attained  a proficiency 
which  in  after  years  was  a source  of  pleasure  and  advantage 
to  himself  and  a means  which  he  often  happily  employed  for 
the  purpose  of  interesting  and  instructing  others. 

“His  studies  were  interrupted  by  the  Herolutionary 
troubles,  and  he  spent  about  two  years  in  his  mother’s 
printing  establishment,  during  which  he  learned  and  prac- 
tised the  business  of  a compositor.  It  would  appear  that 
he  was  led  to  this  much  less  by  inclination  than  by  the 
reverses  which  his  family  had  sustained,  and  the  dangers 
of  the  times.’’ 

In  the  spring  of  1796,  the  young  student,  at  the  age  of 
seventeen,  began  the  study  of  medicine  under  Duval,  an 
eminent  surgeon  of  Rennes.  Two  years  later  we  find  him 
at  Paris,  attending  the  schools  of  medicine,  and  listening  to 
the  lectures  of  Pinel,  Bichat,"  and  other  distinguished  pro- 
fessors. It  was,  however,  a dangerous  period.  Infidelity 
ran  wild.  Religion  was  held  in  scorn  and  contempt  ; but 
the  firm,  pious,  weU-balanced  mind  of  Mr.  Brute  received 
no  injury.  He  kept  the  precious  pearl  of  faith  unharmed. 
He  even  did  his  best  to  stem  the  savage  tide  of  infidelity. 
In  1803  he  graduated  Doctor  in  Medicine  with  the  highest 
honors.  Eleven  hundred  students  were  following  the  course; 
and  of  these  one  hundred  and  twentj^  of  the  best  were 
chosen  to  compete  for  the  first  prize.  It  was  gained  by  Dr. 
Brute,  after  a severe  examination. 

The  young  physician  was  offered  a good  position  in  the 
capital  of  France  ; but  the  times  had  changed,  and  he  de- 
cided to  dedicate  his  brilliant  talents  to  the  Church.  It 
was  not,  however,  from  any  feelings  of  dislike  that  he  aban- 
doned the  profession  of  medicine.  No.  “He  always 


• Un'ler  the  date  of  Sept.  25th,  1801,  Brnte  thus  chronicles  the  decth  of  his  young  but  celebrated 
teacher  : “ Xavier  Bichat  died  this  morning  at  four  o’clock,  31  years  of  age,  enjojdng  the  very 
highest  reputation  in  his  profession  and  giving  the  greatest  promise  for  the  future.  All  hie 
pupils  loved  him.  His  father  and  mother  were  most  excellent  people,  very  pious  and  brought 
him  up  in  the  most  Christian  manner  ....  Let  us  pray  to  God  for  the  repose  of  his  souL" 


752 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


honored  it,”  says  the  Rev.  Dr.  McCaffrey,  “as  one  of  the 
noblest  to  which  a highly  gifted  and  philanthropic  man 
can  devote  himself.  Delightful  as  his  conversation 
was  to  all,  and  to  men  of  science  in  particular,  it  was 
peculiarly  so  to  the  student,  or  to  the  practitioner  and  pro- 
fessor of  medicine. 

“They  often  expressed  their  astonishment,  that  after  a 
lapse  of  twenty  or  thirty  years,  engrossed  by  pursuits 
of  a very  different  order,  he  retained  so  perfect  and  minute 
a knowledge  of  all  that  he  had  studied  in  his  youth,  under 
the  great  masters  of  the  French  capital.”' 

The  horrors  of  the  French  Revolution  had  now  passed,  and 
Christianity  once  more  took  possession  of  her  profaned  and 
ruined  temples.  Zealous  laborers  were  needed  for  the  di- 
vine work  of  reconstruction.  This  determined  young  Dr. 
Brute  to  enter  the  seminary  of  St.  Sulpice,  Paris.  He 
began  his  new  labors  in  1803.  With  eagerness,  his  orderly, 
well-trained  mind  pursued  the  study  of  theology,  canon 
law,  church  history,  and  the  other  sacred  sciences.  He  was 
a model  to  all  in  the  seminary.  It  need  hardly  be  said  that 
he  was  a ripe  scholar  and  finished  theologian  when  he  was 
raised  to  the  sacred  dignity  of  the  priesthood,  at  the  age 
twenty-nine,  in  the  year  1808. 

Father  Brute  was  offered  a canonicate  in  the  cathedral  of 
Rennes,  and  the  Bishop  of  Nantes  pressed  him  to  become 
assistant  chaplain  to  the  Emperor  Napoleon.  But  he  re- 
fused both  positions,  and  became  a member  of  the  Priests  of 
St.  Sulpice.  He  was  appointed  professor  of  theology  in  the 
Seminary  of  his  native  city,  and  was  thus  devoting  his  time 
and  talents  when  the  venerable  Bishop  Flaget  of  Kentucky 
visited  France.  This  suggested  a fresh  train  of  reflections— 
the  New  World,  with  its  vast  spiritual  wants  and  few  labor 
ers.  The  apostolic  Brute  decided  to  go  to  America.  He  bad© 
a tender  adieu  to  his  good  mother,  his  many  friends,  and  his 
library,  and  sailed  from  Bordeaux  in  the  summer  of  1810. 

• The  only  occasion  on  which  we  have  heard  of  his  attempting  the  practice  was  at  Mt.  St. 
Mary’s  College,  when  one  of  the  students  broke  his  arm,  and  the  regular  physician  could  not 
be  had  at  once  ; Father  Brute  set  the  arm  so  skillfully  as  to  leave  nothing  for  the  doctor  to  d* 
wb«n  he  came.— i)r.  E.  H.  Clark*. 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE' 


CHAPTER  II 


A GREAT  TEACHER  IN  THE  NEW  WORLD. 

Father  Brute  at  Baltimore — At  Emmittshurg — Note  on 
Mt.  St.  Mary's  College — Trying  to  learn  English — 
His  zeal  and  labors — Mother  Seton — A short  trip  to 
France — His  labors  and  example  in  the  seminary  at 
the  mountain — John  Hughes  and  Father  Brute — 
Letters. 

Father  Brute,  in  company  with  Bishop  Flaget,  landed  at 
Baltimore  on  the  18th  of  August,  1810.  For  nearly  two 
years  after  his  arrival,  he  filled  the  chair  of  Philosophy  at 
the  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpice.  He  was  then  appointed  to  aid 
Father  Dubois  in  the  management  of  Mount  St.  Mary’s 
College,'  Emmittshurg,  Maryland. 

It  was  during  the  vacation  of  1812,  while  spending  his 
time  in  hard  misssionary  labors,  that  Father  Brute  dropped 


• In  its  early  years,  no  other  institution  exercised  snch  a powerful  influence  on  the  destiny 
of  the  Catholic  Chnrch  in  the  United  States  as  Mount  St.  Mary’s  College.  It  is  the  Alma 
Mater  of  some  of  our  greatest  prelates.  This  seat  of  learning,  situated  at  the  foot  of  the  Bine 
Ridge  Mountains,  in  Frederick  Connty,  Maryland,  about  fifty  miles  from  Baltimore,  was  founded 
in  1809  by  Rev.  Father  Dubois,  a priest  of  St.  Sulpice,  and  afterwards  Bishop  of  New  York.  At 
first  it  was  an  ecclesiastical  seminary,  bnt  it  gradually  assumed  the  scope  of  a general  college. 
The  early  college  was  simply  a log  building.  All  its  beauty  was  within  its  wooden  walls,  in  its 
president,  Duboi8,its  “ angel  guardian,”  Bnite  and  its  promising  students.  In  the  summer  of  1826, 
faculty  and  students  took  possession  of  the  new  edifice.  In  1830,  during  the  presidency  of  Rev.  Dr. 
Purcell— now  the  venerable  archbishop  of  Cincinnati — the  college  was  chartered,  and  empowered 
to  confer  degrees.  It  is  strictly  a Catholic  college.  Since  18.il.  all  students  entering  its  halls  must 
be  willing  to  be  instructed  in  the  doctrines  and  practices  of  the  Catholic  Church.  Among  the 
graduates  of  Mount  St.  Mary’s  are  ten  or  twelve  bishops  and  archbishops.  Archbishops  Hughes 
and  Purcell,  and  his  Eminence  Cardinal  McCloskey,  are  among  the  number.  It  has  given  the 
country  such  men  of  letters  as  the  late  George  Henry  Miles,  and  such  men  of  professional  distinc- 
tion as  Roberts  Bartholow,  M.D.,  LL.D.,  of  Philadelphia.  The  present  President  of  this  ven- 
erable seat  of  learning  Is  Rev.  .John  A.  Watterson,  D.D. — Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Chursk 
in  the  United  States,  p.  457,  with  a few  changes. 


753 


754 


RIGHT  REV.  SIM  OH  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


a note  to  Bishop  Flaget.  Archbislioi)  Bayley  considered  it 
“one  of  his  first  attempts  to  write  in  English.” 

“lam  trying,”  he  says,  “ to  learn  practically  my  English. 
I have  said  Mass  and  preached — bad  preaching  as  it  may  be 
— in  six  different  ]3laces.  This  must  force  this  dreadful 
English  into  my  backward  head,  or  I must  renounce  forever 
to  know  it.”  .... 

For  some  years  Mount  St.  Mary’s  now  became  the  chief 
theatre  of  his  zeal,  learning,  and  holy  influence.  He  taught 
ill  the  College,  and  he  was  the  spiritual  director  of  the 
saintly  Mother  Seton  and  her  sisters  of  Charity  at  St. 
Joseph’s. 

Mother  Seton  derived  the  greatest  benefit  from  his  excel- 
lent counsels.  She  and  Father  Brute  were  such  congenial 
spirits  that  their  minds  would  seem  to  have  been  cast  in  the 
same  mould.  A vivid  fancy  and  ardent  temperament,  Avith 
an  entire  yielding  of  himself  to  the  impulses  of  Faith, 
caused  this  apostolic  priest  to  feel  most  powerfully  the 
truths  of  religion,  and  with  a corresponding  fervor  to  an- 
nounce them  in  word  or  writing. 

His  ideas  flowed  so  rapidly  that  at  times  he  Avould  not 
stop  to  give  them  full  expression  in  language;  but  he 
poured  forth  his  subjects,  as  it  were,  in  flashes  of  word 
and  sentiment,  leaving  much  to  be  supplied  and  felt  by 
those  to  whom  he  addressed  himself. 

He  found  in  Mother  Seton  a soul  who  could  follow  him 
in  his  lofty  and  beautiful  flights  on  the  wings  of  Faith,  who 
could  catch  the  fire  of  his  thoughts  and  commune  with  him 
in  the  enjoyment  of  that  elevating  power.  From  him,  in  a 
great  measure,  did  this  gifted  lady  learn  the  secret  of  how 
to  preserve  her  soul  in  peace  amid  the  trials  of  her  position, 
and,  abandoning  herself  to  the  will  of  God  in  all  things,  to 
look  forward  in  hope  and  joy  to  the  term  of  all  earthly 
sorrow  and  suffering.' 

In  1818  Father  Brute  made  a visit  to  France  for  the  pur- 
pose of  bringing  over  his  library’'  and  interesting  the  French 

• White. 

’ It  was  a choice  and  valuable  collection  of  nearly  5,000  volumes— about  the  only  property  the 
apostolic  priest  ever  possessed. 


RIGHT  REV.  SIHON  GABRIEL  BRUT^!. 


755 


clergy  in  the  American  missions.  On  his  arrival  at  Balti- 
more, he  was  appointed  President  of  St.  Mary’s  College, 
where  he  remained  until  1818,  when  he  again  returned  to 
Emmittsburg. 

Mount  St.  Mary’s  College  was  now  placed  on  a good  foot- 
ing. A theological  school  was  opened,  and  Father  Brute 
became  professor  of  theology  and  superior  ot  the  school. 
Here,  for  many  years,  he  moulded  the  future  priests,  bishops, 
and  archbishops  of  the  country,  and  proved  his  greatness  as 
a learned  and  saintly  teacher. 

“His  duties,”  says  Rev.  Dr.  McCaffrey,  “were  multiplied 
and  various,  and  required  to  discharge  them  no  ordinary 
ehare  of  zeal,  industry,  and  versatility  of  powers.  He  was 
confessor  tO  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  and  for  many  years  pas- 
tor of  the  congregation  at  Emmittsburg,  while  he  frequently 
exercised  in  this  congregation  some  of  the  most  arduous 
functions  of  the  holy  ministry. 

“In  the  ecclesiastical  seminary  he  lectured  on  sacred 
scripture,  and  was  professor  of  theology  and  moral  philoso- 
phy. In  the  college  he  taught  at  different  times  natural 
philosophy  and  various  other  branches.  True  greatness 
dignifies  whatever  sphere  it  moves  in.  His  genius  and  learn- 
ing were  conspicuous,  when  they  expatiated  through  the 
palace-halls  of  the  queen  of  sciences.  Divinity ; they  were 
not  less  admirable  when  they  descended  to  the  humble  task 
of  teaching  youth  geography,  or  explaining  the  little  cate- 
chism to  children 

“His  cheerful  piety,  amiable  manners,  and  lively  interest 
in  the  welfare  of  his  pupils,  were  sure  to  win  their  hearts ; 
and  his  eminent  holiness  of  life  secured  not  only  respect, 
but  veneration.  His  exhortations  to  virtue  and  piety  could 
scarcely  fail  of  effect,  because  he  recommended  only  what 
he  practised  himself.  No  standard  of  Christian  or  priestly 
excellence  to  which  he  pointed  could  appear  too  high — since 
he  was  himself  a living  instance  of  its  attainment.  If  for- 
getful of  this  earth,  he  always  pointed  and  allured  to  Heaven, 
he  also  led  the  way 

“ His  hours  of  sleep  were  few,  and  long  before  the  morn- 


756 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


ing’s  dawn  lie  arose  to  converse  with  God,  and  to  give  Him 
the  first  fruits  of  the  day.  During  these  early  meditations 
his  soul,  absorbed  in  heavenly  contemplation  and  intimate 
union  with  its  Creator,  was  largely  visited  with  the  refreshing 
dews  of  divine  grace,  and  when  he  approached  the  altar  and 
offered  up  the  Holy  Sacrifice,  his  heart,  already  full  to  over- 
flowing, was  always  overpowered  by  mingled  emotions  of 
reverential  awe  and  gratitude  and  love,  and  often  foupd  re- 
lief in  copious  tears. 

“He  descended  to  the  discharge  of  his  ordinary  duties; 
but,  like  Moses,  he  bore  the  marks  of  converse  with  his  God, 
and,  as  words  of  heavenly  wisdom  fell  from  his  tongue,  you 
could  readily  fancy  that  his  lips,  like  those  of  Isaias,  had 
been  touched  by  the  seraph  with  living  coals  of  fire  from 
the  altar. 

“ His  time  was  all  divided  between  prayer  and  labor.  He 
loved  so  well  the  beauty  of  the  house  of  the  Lord,  and  the 
place  where  his  glory  dwells,  that  he  spent  whole  hours 
kneeling  before  the  Blessed  Sacrament ; and  eventually  he 
made  it  a rule  whenever  it  was  practicable,  to  recite  the 
divine  office  in  His  holy  presence.  Thither  he  would  repair 
on  returning  from  a long  journey  during  the  rigors  of 
winter,  and,  until  he  had  satisfied  his  devotions,  no  per' 
suasions  could  induce  him  to  attend  to  his  personal  com- 
fort. 

“At  other  times,  unless  he  was  engaged  in  active  duties, 
you  would  find  him  in  the  midst  of  his  splendid  library,  sur- 
rounded by  the  writings  of  the  Fathers  and  Doctors  of  the 
Church,  and  whatever  besides  is  most  rare  and  valuable  in 
science  and  literature,  pursuing  his  devoted  studies  with  in- 
tense application  and  wonderful  activity  of  mind,  or  commit- 
ing  to  paper,  for  the  benefit  of  others,  the  results  of  his  pro- 
found investigations. 

“His  recreation  was  but  variety  of  labor.  When  his 
wearied  mind  demanded  its  turn  of  relaxation  the  most  ar- 
duous bodily  toil  succeeded,  and  this  round  of  exertions, 
mental  and  corporeal,  was  kept  up  with  an  elasticity  of  spirits 
and  activity  of  mind  truly  surprising.  After  a journey  of 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


767  ' 


fifty  miles,  performed  on  foot  in  a single  day/  book  in  band, 
praying  and  reading  by  turns,  and  scarcely  stopping  to  take 
the  simple  refection  that  nature  required,  he  would  meet  his 
friends  in  the  evening  with  a freshness  of  spirits  and  gayety 
of  conversation  that  could  not  be  surpassed. 

“As  professor  of  theology  he  chiefly  excelled  in  two 
things — a vast  erudition,  which  left  nothing  unexplored,  and 
a singular  power  of  generalizing,  which  enabled  him  to 
grasp  his  w hole  subject  and  handle  it  with  ease,  by  bringing 
aU  its  details  under  a few  general  principles.  In  exhibiting 
and  supporting  these  principles  he  put  forth  all  his  strength. 
After  adducing  all  the  evidence  which  his  extensive  reading 
readily  furnished,  elucidating  it  by  his  luminous  explana- 
tions, and  applying  the  logical  tests  with  cautious  judgment 
and  impartial  rigor,  his  excursive  mind  brought  in  a rich 
and  almost  gorgeous  profusion  of  analogies  and  illustra- 
tions from  every  part  of  the  wide  domain  of  human  know- 
ledge.” 

Among  Father  Brute’s  students  at  this  time,  might  be  seen 
a bright,  noble-looking  young  fellow,  who  had  manfully 
brushed  a host  of  difficulties  aside,  and  pushed  his  way  into 
the  class-rooms  of  Mount  St.  Mary’s  College.  Many  a day 
he  listened  to  his  illustrious  teacher,  storing  up  the 
treasures  of  knowledge  that  flow'ed  from  his  lips.  At 
length  he  was  raised  to  the  priesthood  in  1826.  • And  w'ho  was 
this  student  ? John  Hughes,  afterw^ards  Archbishop  of  New 
York. 

' Archbishop  Bayley  gives  the  following  memorandum  from  Father  Brute's  .Journal.  It  is 
dated  March.  1821 : “ On  the  evening  of  the  14th  of  March,  Mr.  Damphoux  arrived  at  the  moun- 
tain to  recall  Mr.  Hickey  to  Baltimore.  The  next  moniing  after  I had  celebrated  mass  at  St 
Joseph’s,  I started  on  foot  for  Baltimore,  without  saying  a word  to  anybody,  to  speak  to  the 
Archbishop  and  Mr.  Tessier,  and  endeavorto  retain  him.  Stopped  at  Taneytown,  at  Father  Zochi’s, 
and  got  something  to  cat.  At  Winchester  found  out  that  I had  not  a penny  in  my  pocket,  and 
was  obliged  to  get  my  dinner  on  credit.  Arrived  at  Baltimore  (52  miles)  10  minutes  before  10 
•'clock.  Mr.  Hickey  to  remain  at  tbe  college.  Lavs  Deo.  Set  out  on  my  return  the  next  day 
(16th)  in  the  afternoon;  stopped  at  Mr.  Williamson's,  6 1-2  miles  from  the  city,  where  the  storm 
obliged  me  to  take  refuge.  On  Saturday,  17th  (St.  Patrick’s  Day),  said  mass  and  made  a dis- 
course to  the  people  on  the  text.Jllii  sanctorum  sumvs?  At  7 o'clock  started  again,  the  wind 
and  rain  in  my  face,  sometimes  so  severe  as  almost  to  take  away  my  breath ; arrived  at  the 
mountain  at  10  1-2  o’elock  at  night.  In  going  I read  388  pages  in  Antequil’s  History  of  France. 
the  reigns  of  Louis  XII.,  and  Francis  I. ; 14  pages  of  Cicero  De  Officiis;  3 chapters  in  the  Nets 
Testament;  my  office  ; recited  the  chaplet  three  times.  On  ray  journey  back  the  wind  blew  so 
hard  that  I could  only  read  a pamphlet  of  25  pages  and  my  office.” 


758 


BIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUT&. 


Young  Father  Hughes  began  his  labors  in  a new  and  thorny 
field  ; but  the  kind  master  did  not  forget  his  promising 
pupil.  “My  dear  Brother,”  writes  Rev.  Professor  Brute, 
“may  God  bless  such  wise  and  prudent  beginnings  of  your 
holy  ministry  amidst  such  diflBcult  and  perplexing  circum- 
stances as  it  has  pleased  Him  to  try  them  by.  May  He  bless 
such  worthy  sentiments  as  expressed  in  your  letter.” 

In  all  his  perplexities  the  futuip  archbishop  had  recourse 
to  Father  Brute.  He  asks  his  opinion,  now  upon  a point 
of  theology,  again  upon  some  antiquarian  subject ; now  he 
applies  to  him  to  find  a passage  in  one  of  the  Fathers  ; now 
consults  him  upon  a question  of  philosophy,  or  asks  from 
him  a summary  of  the  principles  of  Canon  Law,  which 
bear  upon  the  existing  church  difficulties  at  Philadelphia. 
Upon  all  points  this  extraordinary  man  was  ready  to  satisfy 
him.‘ 

When  Father  Hughes  erected  St.  John’s  Church  at  Phil- 
adelphia, and  was  about  to  have  it  dedicated  in  1832,  he 
wrote  to  his  dear  old  Professor : “Could  you  not  be  here  on 
that  day  % It  would  add  to  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion 
and  be  a subject  of  joy  to  all  your  friends — who  are  all  that 
know  or  ever  heard  of  you.” 

“I  have  heard,”  replies  Father  Brute,  “from  all  quarters 
of  the  great  success  that  God  grants  to  your  noble  under- 
taking. The  details  you  give  me  are  of  the  most  pleasing 
nature.  The  invitation  you  add  for  the  day  of  consecration 
I acknowledge  with  all  my  heart ; but,  be  sure  that  my  good 
obscure  corner  here  is  my  true  place,  and  a couple  of  miles 
of  radius,  just  to  St.  Joseph’s,  the  true  space  of  my  useful- 
ness;  for  the  rest,  nesciri  et pro  niliilo  reputari.'" 

• Hnssard. 

In  a copy  of  the  New  York  Truth  Teller,  before  us,  dated  October  10th,  1829,  we  find  a ■<>- 
tice  of  the  opening  of  Mt.  St.  Mary’s  College  in  which  it  is  stated  that  “ the  Rev.  Mr.  Brute  an# 
ttia  other  members  of  the  institution  assist,  as  usual,  in  their  respective  departments." 


CHAPTER  in. 


TOILING  IN  THE  WESTERN  WILDERNESS. 

J)ocu7nenis  from  Rome — A retreat — Is  consecrated  Bishop 
of  Vincennes — Reception  in  his  new  See — Everything  to 
create — Glance  at  his  labors  and  virtues — His  death 
and  character. 

One  day  in  the  month  of  May,  1834,  while  Father  Brute 
was  giving  a retreat  to  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  he  was  handed 
some  documents  which  had  come  all  the  way  from  Rome. 
He  went  into  the  chapel,  and  on  his  knees  opened  them — 
the  Bulls  appointing  him  Bishop  of  the  newly  erected  See  of 
Vincennes,  Indiana. 

His  humility  was  alarmed.  He  made  a retreat  to  know  the 
will  of  Heaven,  and  only  after  long  and  careful  reflection 
would  he  accept  the  great  responsibility.  “ I have  been  un- 
usually engaged  since  I received  the  news*of  your  elevation 
to  the  episcopacy.”  wrote  his  old  pupil.  Father  John  Hughes, 
in  August,  1834.  “ My  congratulations  are  on  this  account 
later.,  but  not  less  sincere.  The  place  which  you  have  hith- 
erto occupied  seemed  to  me  so  important  for  the  Church, 
that  I confess  it  is  with  regret  I see  it  vacant.  But  when  I 
think  of  the  ways  by  which  Almighty  God  accomplishes 
His  designs,  especially  in  reference  to  the  Church,  I have  no 
doubt  but  it  will  be  found  according  to  His  will.”  The  new 
prelate  was  consecrated  in  the  fall  of  the  same  year,  and  at 
once  set  out  for  Vincenaea.  He  andved  there  in  company 
with  Bishop  Flaget  and  Bishop  Purcell,  on  the  5th 
Xov  ember. 


759 


760 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


“Some  miles  before  reaching  the  city,”  writes  Bishop 
Brute,  “we  were  met  by  a number  of  citizens.  Catholics 
and  Protestants,  on  horseback,  who  had  accompanied  the 
pastor.  Rev.  Mr.  Lalumiere,  a native  of  the  State,  and  the 
first  priest  ordained  for  Vincennes.  He  was,  of  course,  filled 
with  joy  in  seeing  a Bishop  granted  to  his  Indiana,  and  all 
the  inhabitants  seemed  to  share  in  it. 

“The  ceremony  of  installation  took  place  the  same  evening. 
Bishop  Flaget,  who  forty- three  years  before  had  been  the 
missionary  priest  here  when  it  was  a simple  trading  and  mil- 
itary post,  in  the  midst  of  the  surrounding  wilderness,  pro- 
ceeded to  address  the  people  with  his  usual  fervor.  ’ Venerated 
and  beloved  by  all,  himself  in  the  seventy-fourth  year  of  his 
age,  he  introduced  to  them  their  new  Bishop,  no  longer  young, 
being  in  his  fifty-fourth  year,  and  urged  them  to  make  good 
use  of  the  privileges  which  God  in  His  mercy  had  bestowed 
upon  them.  Other  instructions  were  given  during  those 
days.  On  Sunday  I officiated  pontifically,  and  on  Monday 
my  venerable  colleagues  took  their  leave,  amid  the  blessings 
of  the  whole  population,  to  return  to  their  respective 
dioceses. 

“ They  literally  left  me  alone.  Father  Petit  was  obliged  soon 
to  return  to  his  college  in  Kentucky.  Mr.  Lalumiere  took 
charge  of  the  missions  in  the  vicinity  of  Vincennes,’  but 
still  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  distant,  and  in  the  whole^ 
diocese  there  were  but  'two  other  priests,  one  Mr.  Ferneding, 
in  charge  of  the  German  missions  150  miles  distant,  and  Mr. 
St.  Cyr,  whom  Bishop  Rosati’  had  permitted  to  assist 


> The  venerable  Flaget  was  the  first  bishop  of  Louisville.  He  was  born  in  France  in  1763.  He 
made  his  studies  at  the  University  of  Clermont,  and  became  a member  of  the  Priests  of  St.  Snl- 
pice.  He  landed  at  Baltimore  in  1792,  and  was  appointed  by  Bishop  Carroll  to  the  far-away  mis- 
sion of  Vincennes.  He  was  a great  admirer  of  Washington.  When  he  was  consecrated  Bishop, 
in  1810,  his  diocese  embraced  the  Mississippi  Valley.  He  sometimes  made  journeys  of  2,000  mile* 
at  a time.  This  truly  heroic  man  died  in  18.50,  at  the  ripe  age  of  87  years,  during  57  of  which  he 
had  labored  in  America. 

^ Vincennes  “ took  its  name  from  a French  oflicer,  M.  He  Vincennes,  who  was  massacred  aa 
age  ago  by  the  Indians,  together  with  a Jesuit  Father,  who  had  accompanied  him  in  an  expedition 
to  protect  the  friendly  tribes  who  lived  upon  the  Wabash,  where  the  Society  had  established  the- 
toission  of  St.  Francis  Xavier.” — Bishop  Brute. 

• Bishop  Rosati,  a native  of  Italy,  and  a member  of  the  Congregation  of  the  Mission,  was  ap- 
pointed first  Bishop  of  St.  Louis  in  1827.  He  died  in  1843. 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


761 


me  for  one  year,  and  who  was  stationed  at  Chicago — 226 
miles  off. 

“ The  Cathedral  Church  is  a plain  brick  building,  115  feet 
long,  and  60  feet  broad,  consisting  of  the  four  walls  and  the 
roof,  unplastered,  and  not  even  white- washed — no  sanctuary 
— not  even  a place  for  preserving  the  vestments  and  sacred 
vessels.  It  has  only  a simple  altar  of  wood,  with  a neatly 
gilded  tabernacle,  and  a cross  and  six  beautiful  candlesticks 
— a gift  from  France — which  were  much  in  contrast  with 
the  poverty  and  utter  destitution  of  the  place.  The  house  built 
for  the  missionary — and  now  the  episcopal  residence — con- 
sists of  a small  comfortable  room  and  closet,  25  feet  by  12, 
without,  however,  a cellar  under,  or  a garret  above  ; a small 
plot  in  a garden  lies  between  it  and  the  church,  on  the  other 
side  of  which  is  the  Catholic  cemetery.  Some  years  since, 
the  town  had  a common  burying  ground  prepared,  beyond 
its  limits,  and  insisted  for  a while  that  the  Catholics  should 
bury  their  dead  in  it  like  the  rest,  but  they  resisted  so  reso- 
lutely that  they  were  at  last  permitted  to  bury  in  their  own 
cemetery.  An  old  wooden  building,  a short  distance  from 
the  palace,  is  occupied  by  the  servant,  and  near  it  is  a stable 
ready  for  the  Bishop' s horse — when  he  is  able  to  get  one. 

“ The  people  are  mostly  of  French  descent,  poor,  illiterate, 
but  of  that  open,  lively  disposition  which  bespeaks  their 
origin.  They  retain  their  Faith,  love  their  priest,  but  are 
negligent  in  attending  to  their  religious  duties.  They  are  very 
remiss  also  in  teaching  their  children  their  prayers  and  the 
catechism,  and  this  causes  theni  to  forget  it  themselves. 
Many  also  are  in  the  habit  of  using  profane  language.  It  is 
true,  and  should  be  mentioned,  that  of  late  years  they  have 
been  much  neglected,  and  much  of  their  former  piety  seems 
now  to  be  re-kindling  in  their  hearts. 

“The  kind  reception  I met  with  on  my  arrival  was  fol- 
lowed up  by  generous  gifts  of  provisions  and  other  necessary 
things.  Of  money  they  have  little,  and  consequently  can 
give  but  little.  A subscription  list  which  was  handed  around 
some  months  after  I came,  with  the  intention  of  providing 
a yearly  income  for  my  support,  did  not  reach  two  hundred 


762 


BIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTA 


dollars,  and  most  of  this  was  to  be  paid  in  grain,  if  they  had 
not  money  at  the  time.” 

It  will  thus  be  seen  that  when  Bishop  Brute  began  his  la- 
bors at  Vincennes,  nearly  everything  was  to  create — a semi- 
nary, schools,  churches,  and  all  these  with  an  income  of  less 
than  $20  a month.  He  was  both  Bishop  and  parish  priest, 
and  his  round  of  toil  was  ceaseless.  Every  Sunday  he  gave 
two  instructions — one  in  French,  another  in  English.  He 
left  no  corner  of  his  wild  and  widely  scattered  diocese  un- 
visited. He  wrote  continually  for  the  Catholic  press.  His 
food  and  clothing  were  of  the  very  plainest.  As  to  money, 
if  he  had  any,  he  knew  only  how  to  give  it  away.  “If  he 
had  five  dollars,”  said  one  of  his  priests,  “ it  went  to  the  first 
IDerson  that  asked  him  for  money.”  He  often  gave  away  his 
garments,  and  he  was  known  to  bestow  his  linen  and  under- 
clothes to  poor  negroes  whom  he  visited  and  solaced. 

The  first  Church  he  blessed  was  placed  under  the  patron- 
age of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  called  St.  Mary’s,  an  event 
which,  he  says,  gave  him  “ great  happiness.”  Of  his  first 
visit  to  Chicago,  he  writes  : “ I gave  only  a few  confirmations, 
and  three  instructions,  one  on  Saturday,  and  two  on  Sun- 
day, to  encourage  the  rising  Catholic  congregation  of  that 
most  important  point.  It  is  now  composed  of  about  400 
souls  of  all  countries,  French,  Canadians,  Americans,  Irish, 
and  a good  number  of  Germans.” 

When  he  visited  the  Indians  and  their  good  missionary. 
Father  Be  Seille,  he  was  received  with  delight.  One  of  the 
chiefs  made  the  Bishop  a present  of  320  acres  of  land,  say- 
ing that  “ God,  when  He  would  return  from  Heaven  to  visit 
our  earth,  would  see  that  ground  which  the  Indians  gave,  and 
that  it  would  prove  to  Him  their  sincere  devotion  to  His 
holy  religion  and  the  messengers  He  bad  sent  to  secure 
its  blessings  to  them.”  He  confirmed  sixteen  Indians  on 
this  occasion.  “ One  was  an  old  chief,”  writes  the  Bishop, 
“who  since  his  Baptism  had  led  such  an  innocent  life  that 
he  had  not  been  observed  to  commit  any  fault,  or  give 
way  to  impatience,  or  any  other  imperfection.” 

As  he  passed  by  the  pretty,  peaceful  site  now  adorned 


RIGHT  REV.  SIMON  GABRIEL  BRUTE. 


763 


by  the  University  of  Notre  Dame,* *  the  keen  eye  of  the 
apostolic  man  noted  its  advantages,  and  he  remarked  that  it 
was  “a  most  desirable  spot,  and  one  soon  I hope  to  be  oc- 
cupied by  some  prosperous  institution.” 

But  we  have  not  room  to  follow  Dr.  Brute  in  his  tireless 
labors  as  a missionary  Bishop.  Several  times  he  crossed  the 
ocean  at  the  call  of  duty  ; and  it  was  while  on  his  way  to  at- 
tend the  Council  of  Baltimore,  in  1837,  that  he  caught  a 
severe  cold,  which  finally  grew  into  consumption.  His  health 
declined,  but  not  his  activity.  To  the  last  he  was  up  and 
doing.  On  one  occasion  he  began  a journey  of  four  hun- 
dred miles  in  a state  of  such  bodily  suffering  that  he  could 
not  sit  upright  on  his  horse,  but  he  manfullj’-  pushed  along. 
Only  six  hours  before  his*death  he  wrote  with  his  own  hand, 
and  not  without  much  pain  and  difficulty,  several  moving 
letters  to  persons  who  had  unfortunately  abandoned  the 
practice  of  their  Faith,  and  to  whom  he  wished  to  make 
this  dying  appeal  in  behalf  of  their  souls,  while  the  portals 
of  eternity  were  closing  upon  him.  “I  am  going  home,” 
said  this  simple,  saintly,  and  heroic  man,  this  varied  and 
profound  scholar,  as  he  calmly  and  sweetly  surrendered  his 
soul  to  God  on  the  26th  of  June,  1839.’ 

• Thu  famous  seat  of  learning  was  founded  by  the  Very  Rev.  Edward  Sorin,  C.S.C.,  In  1842. 
Its  growth  and  the  sphere  of  its  usefulness  have  kept  pace  with  the  progress  of  years.  In  the 
spring  of  1879  the  main  hnildings  of  the  University  were  burned  down;  but  through  the  energy 
of  the  venerable  founder  and  his  Congregation,  it  has  arisen  from  its  ashes  brighter  and  mor* 
beautiful  than  ever.  Very  Rev.  W.  Corby,  C.S.C.,  long  identified  with  the  institution,  is  the 
present  President  of  Notre  Dame. 

* At  the  end  of  his  five  short  years  of  administration.  Bishop  Brute  left  to  “ the  Church  of 
Indiana,  24  priests,  23  churches,  besides  6 church  buildings  and  28  stations  occasionally  visited; 
2 religions  communities,  1 theological  seminary,  1 college  for  young  men,  1 female  academy,  and 
t free  schools.  With  such  achievements  the  reader  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  he  was  opposed 
to  going  in  debt,  and  would  never  sign  a mortgage  on  church  property.”— ilr.  Clark*. 


Father  Demetrius  Augustine  Gallitzin,  - 

APOSTLE  OF  WESTERN  PENNSYLVANIA.* 


CHAPTER  I. 

A prince’s  youth. 

Birth  and  Parents — Education — Mother  and  Son — Young 
Gallitzin  becomes  a Catholic — A pen-picture — Demet- 
rius prepares  to  travel  in  America — Incidents  before 
departing— On  the  bright^  blue  sea. 

Demetrius  Gallitzin  was  born  on  the  22d  of  December, 
1770,  at  the  Hague,  his  father.  Prince  Gallitzin,  being, 
at  the  time,  ambassador  to  Holland  from  the  Court  of 
Russia.  In  the  history  of  Russia  there  are  few  names  more 
illustrious  than  that  of  Gallitzin.  The  gifted  mother  of  the 
prince- priest  belonged  to  a noble  German  family.  She 
was  the  daughter  of  Field-Marshal  Count  de  Schmettau, 
one  of  the  favorite  generals  of  Frederick  the  Great. 

By  his  worldly  and  ambitious  father,  the  young  Demet- 
rius was  destined  for  the  profession  of  arms.  His  whole 
education  was  therefore  of  the  most  complete  military  cast. 
He  scarcely  ever  heard  of  religion.  In  his  boyhood,  he  was,  in 
truth,  more  familiar  with  the  names  of  Voltaire  and  Diderot 
than  with  the  sacred  names  of  Jesus  and  Mary.  His  father 
was  an  unbeliever ; and  an  infidel  education  had  darkened, 


■ Chief  aathorities  used  : S.  M.  Browneon,  “ Life  of  Demetrius  Augustine  Gallitzin,  Pnno* 
and  Priest;”  Clarke,  “Memoir  of  Gallitzin  ; ” The  Catholic  World.  Vol.  //.;  “ Popular  History 
of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States;  ” White,  “ Sketch  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  th* 
United  State#.” 

766 


766  FATHER  DEMETRnriT'AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 

if  not  destroyed,  the  faith  that  lighted  up  his  mother’s  early 
years. 

The  Princess  Gallitzin  was,  in  the  highest  sense,  a lady  of 
rare  gifts,  one  whose  personal  attractions  were  only  sur- 
passed by  her  beauties  of  mind  and  heart  ; and  the  Al- 
mighty in  His  own  good  time  mercifully  led  her  back  to  his 
Holy  Church.  In  1786,  after  a severe  sickness,  and  years  of 
study  and  examination,  a light  broke  in  upon  her  troubled 
soul— she  again  became  a Catholic. 

As  this  good  and  noble  mother  became  more  religious,  her 
deep  anxiety  for  the  welfare  of  her  only  son  increased.  His 
lot  was  cast  in  wild  times.  Men  laughed  at  religion.  Infi- 
delity was  daily  growing  in  boldness,  and  the  rumble  of  the 
French  Revolution  began  to  be  heard  over  Europe.  On  the 
fourteenth  birthday  of  Demetrius,  December  22,  1784,  she 
wrote  to  her  child: 

“I  am  filled  with  alternate  joy  and  terror  on  this  day. 
My  first  thought  on  awaking  this  morning  was  one  of  joy 
and  thanksgiving  that  God  had  given  you  to  me  ; given  to 
me,  perhaps,  to  have  brought  into  the  world  a great,  good 
man.  But  that  peehaps  ! Here  a second  thought  comes  to 
frighten  me.  ‘To-day,’  I said  to  myself,  ‘ fourteen  years  have 
passed  for  him,  andO  God  ! he  is  still  entirely  without  will  or 
energy,  creeping  about  under  the  influence  of  others  ! ’ 

“This  painful  thought  brought  on  another  — still  more 
terrible — the  doubt  if  this  being  whom  I had  carried  under 
my  heart,  would  finally  be  acceptable  to  God,  and  eternally 
blessed,  or  whether  he  would  continue  to  run  to  perdition, 
in  spite  of  the  excellent  gifts  which  the  Almighty  had  given 
that  he  might  become  the  best  and  happiest  of  men,  in 
spite  of  all  my  prayers,  warnings,  and  entreaties. 

‘ ‘ At  times  during  the  last  months  I have  been  filled  with 
better  hopes,  and  these,  I freely  admit,  have  not  now  alto- 
gether deserted  me,  only  they  are  depressed  and  clouded 
by  the  worse  times  of  late,  and  by  the  ever-recurring  signs 
of  the  slavish  submission,  with  which  you  again  give  your- 
self up  to  your  frightful  laziness  and  inactivity. 

“ Beloved  Mitri,  oh!  would  to  God  that  to-day,  being  your 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUQUSTIXE  GALLITZIN. 


767 


birthday,  reading  this  letter  you  would  begin  anew  with  this 
— that,  feeling  for  your  slavish,  effeminate,  and  indolent  in- 
ertness, the  disgust  which  it  merits,  because  of  its  ruin  of  your 
happiness,  you  might  be  filled  with  dread  in  reviewing  the 
past,  and  fall  on  your  knees  to  invoke  him  for  the  coming 
time,  with  the  consciousness  that  you  have  now  at  least  re- 
solved with  your  whole  soul  to  act  in  future  as  a free  being, 
who  knows  that  though  no  man  sees  him,  God  sees  him,  and 
calls  him  to  an  eternal  destiny. 

“ O my  Mitri,  in  this  expectation,  dearest  child,  I throw 
myself  with  you  at  the  feet  of  our  Father — kneeling  I write 
it — and  cry  from  the  depths  of  my  heart : Have  mercy  on 
him  and  me  !” 

The  grace  of  God  and  the  labors  of  an  able,  pious,  and 
earnest  mother  soon  brought  about  the  desired  result.  Three 
years  after  the  foregoing  letter  was  penned,  young  Demet- 
rius Gallitzin  entered  the  Church  of  ages.  The  Princess  was 
more  than  happy.  He  took  the  name  of  Augustine  in  con- 
firmation, to  please  his  mother,  who  was  especially  devoted 
to  that  Great  Doctor  of  the  Church,  because  of  the  similar- 
ity of  the  maternal  love  with  which  she  wept  and  prayed 
for  her  son  to  that  of  St.  Monica,  of  which  her  friends  de- 
lighted to  remind  her. 

Referring  to  his  own  conversion.  Father  Gallitzin  after- 
wards wrote:  “I  lived  during  fifteen  years  in  a Catholic 

country,  under  a Catholic  government During  a 

great  part  of  this  time  I was  not  a member  of  the  Cath- 
olic Church.  An  intimacy  which  existed  between  our 
family  and  a certain  celebrated  French  philosopher,  had 
produced  a contempt  for  religion.  Raised  in  prejudice 
against  Revelation,  I felt  every  disposition  to  ridicule 
those  very  principles  and  practices  which  1 have  since 
adopted. 

“During  these  unfortunate  years  of  my  infidelity,  par- 
ticular care  was  taken  not  to  permit  any  clergymen  to  come 
Bear  me.  Thanks  to  the  God  of  infinite  mercy,  the  clouds 
of  infidelity  were  dispersed,  and  revelation  adopted  in  our 
family.  I soon  felt  convinced  of  the  necessity  of  invest!- 


768  FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 

gating  the  different  religious  systems,  in  order  to  find  the 
true  one.  Although  I was  born  a member  of  the  Greek 
Church,  and  although  all  my  male  relatives,  without  any 
exception,  were  either  Greeks  or  Protestants,  yet  did  I re- 
solve to  embrace  that  religion  only  which  upon  impartial 
inquiry  should  appear  to  me  to  be  the  pure  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ.  My  choice  fell  upon  the  Catholic  Church, 
and  at  the  age  of  about  seventeen  I became  a member  of 
that  Church.” 

This  conversion  did  not  divert  the  young  Demetrius  from 
the  military  career  which  his  father  wished  him  to  embrace. 
Through  the  influence  of  his  uncle,  Gen.  Von  Schmettau,  he 
received  an  appointment  in  the  early  part  of  1792  as  aide- 
de-camp  to  the  Austrian  General  Von  Lillien,  who  com- 
manded an  army  in  Brabant.  This  was  at  the  opening  of 
the  first  campaign  against  the  French. 

The  prince  was  then  in  his  twenty-second  year.  In  stat- 
ure he  was  tall — about  five  feet  ten.  His  frame  was  slender 
but  vigorous.  His  hair  was  black,  his  eyes  very  dark  and 
brilliant,  and  an  air  of  reserve  and  dignity  seemed  to  throw 
a charm  over  his  handsome  person.  He  was  skilled  in 
handling  the  sword,  and  other  warlike  weapons ; and  as 
for  managing  a charger,  he  could  ride  with  Alexander  the 
Great  himself.  Such  was  Demetrius  as  a young  military 
officer. 

The  sudden  death  of  the  Emperor  Leopold,  and  the  assassi- 
nation of  the  King  of  Sweden — acts  considered  as  the  in- 
famous work  of  the  J acobins — induced  Austria  and  Prussia  to 
dismiss  all  the  foreigners  from  their  armies.  The  young  Prince 
Gallitzin  was  thus  suddenly  deprived  of  his  military 
position ; and  his  father  and  mother  advised  him  to 
travel  in  order  to  finish  his  education.  It  was  decided  that 
he  should  visit  America,  study  its  institutions,  and  make 
the  personal  acquaintance  of  Washington,  Jefferson,  and 
other  famous  men  of  that  day. 

A guide  for  the  noble  young  traveller  was  found  in  the 
person  of  Rev.  Felix  Brosius,  a young  priest  and  professor 
of  mathematics, who  had  formed  the  resolution  of  going  to 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN, 


769 


the  United  States,  for  which  purpose  he  had  spent  two  years 
studying  English,  He  was  to  act  the  part  of  a friendly 
tutor.  It  was  the  wish  of  the  Princess  that  Demetrius 
should  continue  his  study-  of  the  sciences,  and  make  use  of 
them  in  his  observations  in  the  New  World. 

Letters  of  introduction  to  Washington  and  Bishop  Carroll 
were  at  once  procured.  It  was  decided  that  the  Prince 
should  travel  as  a simple  gentleman — in  fact,  under  the  name 
of  Mr.  Augustine  ScJimet.  Before  sailing  a grand  ball  was 
given,  and  the  young  traveller  it  is  told  “danced  from  dark 
till  daylight.”  It  was  his  last  dance.  The  hour  came  lo 
say  adieu,  and  his  boyish  heart  fluttered.  As  he  stood  on 
the  edge  of  the  pier,  a misstep  sent  him  plunging  into  the 
briny  deep,  in  his  mother’s  presence.  But  he  was  a good 
swimmer  and  was  soon  picked  up  by  the  boat  which  carried 
him  to  the  vessel — a sailing-vessel.  Old  ocean  began  to  de- 
velop unknown  powers  in  the  soul  of  Demetrius  Augustine 
Gallitzin,  even  as  he  gazed  on  the  fading  wave-beaten  shores 
of  Europe,  in  August,  1792. 


CHAPTERII. 


THE  YOUN(+  PEINCE-PRIEST. 

FirH  days  in  America — New  and  higher  thoughts — In  the 
seminary — Ordained  to  the  priesthood — Father  Gallit- 
zin  is  sent  on  a singular  mission  to  Virginia — Strange 
events — Adam  Livingston  and  his  troubles — What  fol- 
lowed— Father  Cahill — Captain  McGuire  — Gallitzin 
founds  a Catholic  colony. 

Two  months  and  a half  after  bidding  adieu  to  his  mother 
on  the  piers  of  Rotterdam,  young  Prince  Gallitzin  was  in 
Baltimore.  In  company  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Brosius,  he 
presented  his  letter  of  introduction  to  Bishop  Carroll.  The 
prelate  received  him  with  every  mark  of  kindness,  and  pro- 
cured him  cordial  welcome  in  many  of  the  most  charming 
Baltimore  homes. 

The  kind-hearted  Bishop  also  offered  the  young  traveller 
letters  to  families  in  Philadelphia  and  other  cities.  Deme- 
trius remained  a little  while  looking  about  Baltimore,  “ hav- 
ing,” as  he  said  himself,  “nothing  in  view  but  to  pursue 
his  journey  through  the  States,  and  toqualify  himself  for  his 
original  vocation.”  He  met  with  nothing  but  kindness.  He 
saw  an  active,  energetic  people  full  of  frankness.  Nor  did 
he  fail  to  appreciate  the  American  character,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  new  country.  He  beheld  a land  of  peace 
and  plenty — with  a vast  spiritual  field,  and  few  laborers, 
A new  light  shed  its  rays  on  his  mind.  It  was  from  Heaven. 
He  no  longer  thought  of  his  travelling  tour.  The  work  of 
his  life  took  form  in  his  manly  soul,  and  he  offered  his  ser- 
vices to  Bishop  Carroll. 


770 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 


771 


Without  delay,  the  young  Prince  began  his  theological 
studies  in  the  but  recently  founded  Seminary  of  St.  Sulpice, ' 
at  Baltimore  ; and  after  nearly  three  years  of  diligent  study 
and  the  most  exemplary  conduct,  the  great  day  came  around. 
It  was  the  18th  of  March,  1795.  The  candidate  was  in  his 
twenty-fifth  year.  Bishop  Carroll,  with  inexpressible  emo- 
tion, raised  him  to  that  holy  dignity  in  which  he  was  to  be 
a priest  forever  and  forever.” 

The  young  priest  desired  to  remain  in  the  quiet,  happy  se- 
clusion of  the  Seminary,  and,  at  his  OAvn  earnest  request,  ob- 
tained admission  as  a member  of  the  Priests  of  St.  Sulpice.’ 
Bishop  Carroll,  however,  could  not  dispense  with  his  services. 
After  laboring  in  Baltimore  and  various  country- places  in 
Maryland,  Father  Gallitzin,  in  the  summer  of  1797,  was  sent  on 
a singular  mission  to  Virginia.  Reports  of  mysterious  events 
occurring  there,  had  spread  over  the  country,  and  he  was  de- 
puted to  hold  an  investigation  as  to  their  truth.  He  spent 
from  September  to  Christmas  in  making  a rigid  examina- 
tion. “No  lawyer  in  a court  of  justice,”  he  wrote  to  a 
friend,  “did  ever  examine  and  cross-examine  witnesses 
more  than  I did.”  At  first,  the  young  prince-priest  placed 
no  faith  in  the  reports ; but  the  more  he  investigated,  the 
more  he  soon  came  to  a full  belief  in  the  truth  of  what  he 
saw  and  heard. 

These  singular  events’  are  full  of  interest  and  instruction, 
and  serve  to  illustrate  the  famous  saying  of  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas,  that,  “if  necessary,  God  would  send  an  angel  to 
instruct  those  who  sincerely  seek  the  true  Faith.”  They 
occurred  at  Clipton,  near  Martinsburg,  Virginia.  Living 

> The  Seminary  of  St.  Siilpice  is  the  oldest  Catholic  institution  of  the  kind  in  the  United 
Stales.  It  was  founded  in  1791  by  the  Rev.  Francis  Charles  Nagot.  S.S.,  and  three  priests  of  the 
Society  of  St.  Snlpice.  In  1822  the  Holy  See  raised  it  to  the  rank  of  a Catholic  University,  with 
power  to  grant  degrees  in  theology  and  the  sciences.  This  venerable  seminary  ocenpies  a cen- 
tral position  in  Baltimore,  and  is  one  of  the  attractions  of  the  “ Monumental  Cit.v.  ’ It  has  a 
line  lilirary  containing  about  25,000  volumes.  The  superior  is  A ery  Rev.  A.  Magnieu,  S.S.,  D D. 

• Father  Stephen  Badin  was  the  first  priest  ordained  in  the  United  States,  but  he  was  a deacon 
before  leaving  his  native  France.  Father  Gallitzin,  however,  was  the  second  ordained,  but  the./lr* *< 
who  was  all  ours — “ ours  from  the  first  page  of  his  theology.” 

• Many  years  after  he  quietly  withdrew  from  the  Society  of  St.  Sulpice. 

• For  a full  account  of  them,  see  the  “ Life  of  Prince  Gallitzin,”  by  Sarah  M.  Brownson.  It  is 
• beautiful  work,  and  by  far  the  best  biography  of  the  Prince  ever  written. 


772  FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLTTZIN. 

there  was  Adam  Livingston,  a Protestant,  and  an  honest, 
industrious  farmer.  All  at  once,  he  felt  the  frowns  of  mis- 
fortune. In  some  mysterious  way,  everything  seemed  to  go 
against  him.  His  barns  were  burned  down,  his  cattle  died, 
the  clothing  of  the  family  was  destroyed  by  fire  or  cut  up 
into  little  pieces,  dishes  and  crockery  were  broken,  the 
furniture  often  moved  about  the  rooms — in  short,  Satan  ap- 
peared to  be  playing  the  most  malicious  tricks  around  the 
premises  of  Mr.  Livingston. 

Ministers  of  all  persuasions  were  sent  for,  but  the  evil  one 
laughed  at  their  efforts.  At  length,  in  order  to  free  the  house 
from  its  annoyances,  several  men  came  from  Winchester. 
They  were  well  armed.  No  sooner,  however,  had  they  en- 
tered the  residence  than  a huge  stone  was  seen  to  issue  from 
the  fire-place,  and  whirl  round  upon  the  floor  for  more  than 
fifteen  ndnutes,  when  the  gentlemen  gladly  sneaked  away. 
Having  also  applied  to  three  conjurers,  they  gave  him  some 
herbs,  a book  (“Common  Prayer”),  and  a riddle,  by  way 
of  catching  the  devil.  The  very  first  night,  the  book  and 
herbs  were  found  in  a very  ignominous  piece  of  chamber- 
furniture,  which  was  covered  with  the  riddle ! 

In  the  midst  of  this  misery,  Mr.  Livingston  had  a very  re- 
markable dream.  He  seemed  to  toil  up  a steep  mountain. 
At  the  top  was  a church,  in  which  he  beheld  a man  curi- 
ously dressed.  “ This  is  the  man,”  said  a voice,  “who  will 
bring  you  relief.”  He  related  his  dream,  and  was  told  that 
Catholic  priests  wore  a dress  similar  to  what  he  had  seen  in 
dream-land.  He  wished  to  see  a priest.  A long,  weary  jour- 
ney brought  him  to  an  humble  church.  He  entered,  looked 
at  the  clergyman,  and  exclaimed  aloud:  “The  very  man 
I saw  in  my  dream!”  It  was  Father  Denis  Cahill,  a hardy, 
zealous  Irish  missionary. 

Father  Cahill— not,  however,  without  a good  deal  of  per- 
suasion— went  with  Livingston,  and  beheld  clear  evidences 
of  the  truth  of  the  farmer’s  story.  He  sprinkled  the  house 
with  holy  water,  and  then  went  his  way. 

It  was  soon  after  this  that  the  disturbances  recommenced, 
and  that  Father  Gallitzin  was  sent  to  investigate.  He  deter- 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 


773 


mined,  once  for  all,  to  exorcise  the  evil  spirits ; but  no 
sooner  had  he  begun  to  recite  the  prayers,  than  the  noise 
that  issued  from  every  side  made  him  nervous.  He  stopped, 
went  for  Father  Cahill,  and  the  Irish  priest  finished  the  af- 
fair. He  said  Mass  in  the  house,  and  the  annoyance  ceased. 
The  Livingstons  became  pious  Catholics,  and  fourteen  per- 
sons were  converted  by  these  supernatural  occurrences. 

Having  concluded  his  Virginia  investigations,  the  youth- 
ful Father  Gallitzin  once  more  began  his  zealous  labors  in 
the  missions  of  Maryland  and  Pennsylvania.  Full  of  zeal, 
and  intensely  Catholic  in  heart  and  soul,  the  prince-priest 
was  shocked  at  the  un-Catholic  spirit  that  reigned  among  his 
congregations.  H these  people  believed  in  the  doctrines  of 
the  Church,  they  would  gladly  have  her  authority  reduced 
to  zero — if  not  further ! A vulgar  arrogance,  based  on  ignor- 
ance, had  possession  of  not  a few  minds.  Almost  too  pre- 
sumptuous to  receive  instruction,  and  too  ignorant  to  be 
humble,  they  had  lost  that  grand  and  simple  Faith  which  en- 
ables man  to  yield  a noble  obedience  to  God  and  religion. 
What  they  lacked  in  solid  knowledge,  however,  was  abund- 
antly supplied  by  loose  fancies  and  religious  whims,  de- 
rived from  their  heretical  neighbors.  For  them  liberty 
meant  license,  and  all  law  was  oppression.  The  continual 
interference  of  such  men,  and  their  dictation  in  Church 
matters,  were  an  abomination  to  the  apostolic  Gallitzin. 

But  not  one  of  these  mental  curiosities  and  moral  dwarfs 
was  the  brave  Captain  McGuire,  a good  Irish  Catholic,  and 
a distinguished  officer  of  the  Revolution.  After  the  War  of 
Independence,  he  resided  in  Maryland  ; and  being  a great 
hunter,  he  often  penetrated  into  the  “primeval  forests  of 
western  Pennsylvania.  The  sound  of  his  rifie  was  frequently 
echoed  by  the  most  distant  of  the  Alleghanies.  On  the  very 
summit  of  this  lofty  range,  in  what  is  now  Cambria  county, 
he  bought  a large  tract  of  country,  and  went  there  with  his 
family  to  reside,  in  1788.  The  pious  Caj)tainlost  no  time  in 
providing  for  the  Church — for  which  his  wonderful  faith, 
alone  could  have  given  him  hopes — and  generously  made 
over  four  hundred  acres  of  land  to  Bishop  Carroll,  who  had 


774 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 


just  then  returned  to  the  United  States,  after  his  consecration. 
Here  a Catholic  settlement  soon  began  to  form,  and  its  mem- 
bers became  urgent  in  their  requests  for  a resident  priest. 

Marvellous  are  the  ways  of  Almighty  God  ! Father  Gal- 
litzin  had  long  cherished  the  idea  of  founding  a community 
of  Catholic  settlers  in  some  remote  spot,  far  removed  from  the 
busy  haunts  of  men  and  the  contagion  of  warring  sects  ; 
where  they  could  live  in  primitive  peace  and  simplicity ; 
where  the  stream  of  knowledge  would  not  be  infected  by  the 
putrid  waters  of  vice  ; and  where  Religion  could  reign  as 
queen  ! 

He  had  once  visited  McGuire’s  settlement  on  a mission 
of  charity.  The  thought  struck  him  that  this  would  be  the 
place  to  carry  out  his  admirable  design  ; and  when  the  good 
people  petitioned  Bishop  Carroll  for  a priest,  they  sent  the 
letter  through  Father  Gallitzin,  begging  for  him  to  use  his 
influence  in  getting  them  one — if  possible,  to  come  himself 
among  them.  He  made  their  petition  his  own.  “ Your  re- 
quest,” writes  Bishop  Carroll  to  him,  “is  granted.  I readily 
consent  to  your  proposal  to  take  charge  of  the  congregations 
detailed  in  your  letter  ; and  hope  that  you  will  have  a house 
built  on  the  land  granted  by  Mr.  McGuire,  and  already  set- 
tled ; or  if  more  convenient,  on  your  own,  if  you  intend  to 
keep  it.” 

In  the  wishes  of  these  devoted  people,  and  the  sanction  of 
his  venerable  Bishop,  Father  Gallitzin  recognized  the  call  of 
God.  He  resolved,  in  the  midst  of  this  Catholic  nucleus,  to 
establish  a permament  colony,  which  he  destined  in  his 
mind  as  the  centre  of  his  missions.  Several  poor  Maryland 
families,  whose  affections  he  had  won,  determined  to  follow 
him  ; and,  in  the  summer  of  1799,  he  took  up  his  line  of 
march.  From  Maryland  they  travelled  with  their  faces 
turned  to  the  ranges  of  the  Alleghany  Mountains.  It  was  a 
rough  and  trying  journey.  The  patient  travellers  hewed 
their  way  through  the  primitive  forests,  burdened  at  the  same 
time  with  all  their  worldly  goods.  As  soon  as  the  small 
caravan  had  reached  its  new  home,  Gallitzin  took  posses- 
sion of  this,  as  it  were,  conquered  land.  Without  loss  of 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  QALLITZIN. 


775 


time  all  the  settlers  addressed  themselves  to  the  work  be- 
fore them,  and  toiled  so  zealously  that  before  the  end  of 
the  year  they  had  a little  church  erected. 

Out  of  the  clearings  of  these  untrodden  forests  rose  up 
two  buildings,  constructed  out  of  the  trunks  of  roughly- 
hewn  trees;  of  these  one  was  intended  for  a church — the 
other  a presbytery  for  their  pastor.  On  Christmas  eve  of 
the  year  of  1799,  there  was  not  a winking  eye  in  the  little 
colony.  And  well  there  might  not  be  ! The  new  church, 
decked  with  pine,  and  laurel,  and  ivy  leaves,  and  blazing 
with  such  lights  as  the  scant  means  of  the  faithful  could  af- 
ford, was  awaiting  its  consecration  to  the  worship  of  God! 

There  Gallitzin  offered  up  the  first  Mass,  to  the  great  edi- 
fication of  his  fiock,  that,  although  made  up  of  Catholics, 
had  never  witnessed  such  a solemnity ; and  to  the  great 
astonishment  of  a few  Indians,  who  had  never  in  their  lives 
dreamed  of  such  a wonderful  ceremony.  Thus  it  was,  that 
on  a spot  in  which,  scarcely  a year  previous,  silence  had 
reigned  over  vast  solitudes,  a Prince,  thenceforward  cut  off 
from  every  other  country,  had  opened  a new  one  to  pilgrims 
from  all  nations,  and  that  from  the  wastes  which  ectioed  no 
sounds  but  the  bowlings  of  the  wild  beasts,  there  went  up  the 
divine  snog,  Gloria  in  Excelsis  Deo.  Thus  began  that 
glorious  Catholic  settlement  in  Western  Pennsylvania,  which 
was  destined  to  grow  and  fiourish  like  a beautiful  mountaim- 
flower  in  the  midst  of  the  wildernessl 


CHAPTER  m. 


AN  APOSTLE  AT  WORK. 

State  of  Father  OalUtzin's  colony — The  Pastor's  toils — 
Loretto — The  Prince  and  his  sister — Laboring  late  and 
early  in  the  xineyard  of  the  Lord — A priest  of  order 
and  discipline — A6’  a preach  er — Every  one  kneels  here" 
— Father  Gallitzin  and  his  rebuke  to  a Protestant  lady 
in  church  — Her  conversion  afterwards  — Many  con- 
versions— Father  Gallitzin  as  a writer — His  hospital- 
ity— A forest  scene — Death  of  the  great  missionary — 
Anecdotes — Devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin. 

In  the  spring  of  1800,  Father  Gallitzin’ s congregation  con- 
sisted of  about  forty  families,  and  the  number  was  rapidly  in- 
creasing. “I  have  now,"  thanks  be  to  God,”  he  said,  “a 
little  home  of  my  own,  for  the  first  time  since  I came  to  this 
country,  and  God  grant  that  I may  be  able  to  keep  it.” 

The  whole  cost  of  his  colonization — spiritual  and  material — 
was  borne  by  the  princely  pastor.  He  lived  on  the  farm  which 
the  generous  Captain  McGuire  had  given  for  the  service  of 
the  Church.  But  in  order  to  attract  immigration  around  him 
he  bought  vast  tracts  of  land,  which  he  sold  in  farms  at  a 
low  rate,  or  even  gave  to  the  poor,  l elying  on  his  patrimony 
to  meet  his  engagements.  The  wilderness  soon  put  on  a new 
aspect.  The  settlers  followed  the  impulses  of  the  great  mis- 
sionary, who  kept  steadfastly  in  view  the  improvement  of 
his  work.  His  first  care  was  to  get  up  a grist-mill;  then 
arose  numerous  out  buildings ; additional  property  was  pur 
chased,  and  in  a short  time  the  colony  grew  in  extent  and  pros- 

776 


MEETING  OF  FATHER  LEMCKE  AND  GALLITZIN 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  QALLITZIN.  777 


perity.  A large  part  of  his  own  land  he  laid  out  for  a town, 
and  named  it  Loretto;  the  remainder  he  cleared  for  the  use 
of  the  Church,  the  priests  who  should  succeed  him,  and 
such  institutions  as  should  in  time  arise. 

In  carrying  out  his  work,  the  prince-priest  received  mate- 
rial assistance  from  Europe.  At  first,  sums  of  money  were 
regularly  remitted  to  him  by  his  mother.  With  her  he 
kept  up  a fond  correspondence,  which  his  great  love  for  her 
rendered  one  of  the  consolations  of  his  life.  But  he  lost 
this  good  and  tender  parent  in  1806. 

The  Emperor  of  Russia  could  not  pardon  the  son  of  a 
Russian  Prince  for  becoming  a Catholic  priest,  and  in  1808 
the  noble  missionary  received  from  a friend  in  Europe  a 
letter  saying : 

“The  question  of  your  rights,  and  those  of  the  Princess, 
your  sister,  as  to  your  father’ s property  in  Russia,  has  been 
examined  by  the  Senate  of  St.  Petersburg,  and  it  has  de- 
cided that  by  reason  of  your  Catholic  faith,  and  your  eccle- 
siastical profession,  you  cannot  be  admitted  to  a share  of 
your  late  father’s  property.  Your  sister  is  consequently 
sole  heiress  of  the  property,  and  is  soon  to  be  put  in  posses- 
sion of  it.  The  Council  of  State  has  confirmed  the  decision 
of  the  Senate,  and  the  Emperor  by  his  sanction  has  given  it 
the  force  of  law.” 

Writing  to  her  brother,  the  Princess  Maria  said:  “You 
may  be  perfectly  easy.  I shall  divide  with  you  faithfully, 
as  I am  certain  you  would  with  me.  Such  was  the  will  of 
our  deceased  father,  and  of  our  dearest  mother ; and  such 
also  will  be  the  desire  of  my  affectionate  love  and  devoted- 
ness towards  you,  my  dearest  brother.” 

When  the  Princess  married  the  insolvent  Prince  of  Salm, 
she  said  no  more  about  remittances.  He  cared  not  for 
wealth,  save  to  aid  the  poor,  the  unfortunate,  or  the  Church. 
“If  he  had  possessed  a heart  of  gold,”  said  one  who  knew 
him  well,  “.he  would  have  given  it  to  the  unfortunate.” 

He  was  up  before  the  sun.  Fasting,  he  rode  along  the 
wild  pathways  of  the  forest,  that  were  oftener  pressed  by 
the  wolf  and  the  bear  than  by  the  steps  of  any  human 


778  FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIlf. 

being.  The  wrath  of  the  storm  often  broke  over  his  devoted 
head.  Then,  when  he  reached  some  ont-of-the-way  church, 
came  the  same  round  of  duties  as  before — confession, 
Mass,  baptisms,  marriages,  funerals,  exhortations,  and,  last 
of  all,  another  long  journey. 

In  his  church  at  Loretto  everything  moved  with  the 
nicest  exactness.  He  was  a lover  of  order.  At  his  Sunday 
Mass  he  preached  two  sermons — one  in  English,*  another  in 
German.  French,  however,  was  his  mother-tongue.  He  was  a 
master  of  English,  but  he  did  not  speak  German  very  well. 
His  sermons  were  simplicity  itself,  ever  suited  to  the  times, 
circumstances,  and  needs  of  his  people. 

He  was  very  severe  on  anything  that  savored  of  iri’ever- 
ence  in  church.  It  was  the  house  of  God,  and  it  must  be 
respected.  Once  a Protestant  stood  in  the  crowded  edifice, 
gazed  around,  and  seemingly  viewed  the  prayerful  congre- 
gation with  disgust.  A hand  gently  touched  his  shoulder 
and  he  heard  the  words:  “Every  one  kneels  here.”  He 
knelt  instantly,  for  it  was  the  pastor  of  Loretto  that  spoke. 

On  one  occasion,  however,  he  did  not  meet  with  such 
ready  obedience.  A member  of  his  congregation  had  mar- 
ried a Protestant  lady.  She  accompanied  her  husband  to 
church,  but  did  not  kneel.  She  stood,  and  her  large  figure 
was  conspicuous.  Mass  went  on.  Many  good  people 
trembled,  for  they  felt  that  a rebuke,  swift  and  terrible,  was 
coming.  Father  Gallitzin  was  silent  until  he  turned  around 
to  give  Holy  Communion.  “ Kneel  down,  woman — kneel 
down  !”  he  said,  in  a low  voice.  But  she  did  not  kneel.  An 
instant  passed  ; the  prince’s  black  eyes  seemed  to  flash  fire, 
and  in  a voice  of  thunder  he  exclaimed:  “Woman,  kneel 
downP"'  The  words  shook  the  very  church,  and  it  need 
hardly  be  added  that  the  lady  dropped  on  her  knees. 

Six  months  rolled  by.  One  day  a lady  appeared  at  the 
door  of  Father  Gallitzin’ s house.  He  received  her  kindly, 
and  she  told  him  she  was  the  person  he  had  once  com- 
manded to  kneel.  He  smiled.  They  conversed  for  awhile. 

> In  a letter  dated  1806,  Father  Gallitzin  states  that,  “ the  greatest  part  of  the  congregatloa,** 
was  Irish. 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUOUSTIAE  OALLITZIN. 


779 


“ I have  come  to  be  received  into  the  Church,”  she  observed, 
after  a pause.  “I  have  told  nobody.  I believed  the 
Catholic  religion  to  be  the  true  religion,  from  the  moment 
you  told  me  to  kneel  that  day  in  church.”  She  became  a 
good  Catholic. 

As  an  author  Father  Gallitzin  stands  high  even  to-day. 
In  this  century  he  was  the  pioneer  champion  of  the  Church 
in  the  United  States  ; the  first  to  use  his  intellectual  sledge- 
hammer on  the  cast-iron  skull  of  bigotry.  His  chief  works 
are  “ Defence  of  Catholic  principles,”  and  “ Letters  on  the 
Holy  Scriptures.”  Again  and  again  have  these  volumes 
been  issued,  and  it  is  literally  correct  to  say  that  they 
have  instructed  three  generations.  They  have  been  trans- 
lated into  French  and  German,  and  widely  circulated  in 
France,  Germany,  England,  Ireland,  and  all  over  our  own 
Republic.  As  a writer  the  prince-priest  was  remarkably  clear, 
forcible,  witty,  pointed,  and,  above  all,  logical.  He  wielded 
a sharp  and  powerful  pen. 

We  have  a graphic  picture  of  the  venerable  missionary’s 
appearance  on  one  of  his  forest  journeys,  when  he  had 
reached  his  sixty-fourth  year.  For  it  we  are  indebted  to  the 
pen  of  Rev.  Father  Lemcke,  O.S.B.,  afterwards  his 'suc- 
cessor. In  the  summer  of  1834,  the  good  Father  was  sent 
from  Philadelphia  to  the  assistance  of  the  aged  prince- 
priest.  After  several  days  of  rough  travel  he  reached  Mun- 
ster, a village  some  miles  from  Loretto.  Here  Father  Lemcke 
procured  an  Irish  lad  to  pilot  him  on  his  way. 

“As  we  had  gone,”  he  says,  “ a couple  of  miles  through 
the  woods,  I caught  sight  of  a sled  drawn  by  a pair  of  vig- 
orous horses,  and  in  the  sled  a half- recumbent  traveller,  in 
every  lineament  of  whose  face  could  be  read  a character  of 
distinction.  He  was  outwardly  dressed  in  a thread-bare 
overcoat,  and  on  his  head  a peasant’s  hat,  so  worn  and  di- 
lapidated that  no  one  would  have  rescued  it  from  the  garbage 
of  the  streets.  It  occurred  to  me  that  soipe  accident  had 
happened  to  the  old  gentleman,  and  that  he  was  compelled 
to  resort  to  this  singular  mode  of  conveyance.  While  Iwaa 
taxing  my  brain  for  a satisfactory  solution  of  this  problem. 


780  FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 

Tom,  my  guide,  who  was  trotting  ahead,  turned  round,  and 
pointing  to  the  old  man,  said:  '‘‘‘Here  comes  the  'priest." 

I immediately  coaxed  up  my  nag  to  the  sled.  “Are  you 
really  the  pastor  of  Loretto?”  said  I.  “I  am,  sir.” 
“Prince  Grallitzin  ?”  “ At  your  service,  sir,”  he  said,  with 

a hearty  laugh.  “You  are  probably  astonished,”  he  con- 
tinued, after  I handed  him  a letter  from  the  Bishop  of  Phil- 
adelphia, “ at  the  strangeness  of  my  equipage.  But  there’s 
no  help  for  it.  You  have  no  doubt  already  found  out  that 
in  these  countries  you  need  not  dream  of  a carriage  road. 
You  could  not  drive  ten  yards  without  danger  of  an  over- 
turn. I am  prevented,  since  a fall  which  I have  had,  from 
riding  on  horseback,  and  it  would  be  impossible  for  me  now 
to  travel  on  foot.  Besides,  I carry  along  everything  required 
for  the  celebration  of  Holy  Mass.  I am  now  going  to  a spot 
where  I have  a mission,  and  v/here  the  Holy  Sacrifice  has 
been  announced  for  to-day.  Go  to.  Loretto,  and  make  your- 
self at  home  until  my  return  to-night ; unless,  indeed,  you 
should  prefer  to  accompany  me.”  Father  Lemcke  was  only 
too  happy  to  bear  him  company. 

For  forty-one  years  this  humble  man,  this  truly  great  and 
good  priest,  led  upon  the  mountains  of  Pennsylvania  a most 
perfect  Christian  life.  When  warned  to  take  more  care  of 
himself,  he  would  answer,  in  his  own  energetic  style:  “As 
the  days  have  gone  by  when  by  martyrdrom  it  was  possible 
for  us  to  testify  to  God’s  glory  upon  earth,  it  becomes  our 
duty,  like  the  toil-worn  ox,  to  remain  hitched  to  the  plow 
in  the  field  of  the  Lord.”  On  Easter  Sundaj',  1840,  Father 
Gallitzin,  being  seventy  years  of  age,  had,  early  in  the  morn- 
ing,  taken  his  seat  in  the  confessional.  After  discharging 
these  duties,  he  bravely  braced  up  his  remaining  strength  to 
ascend  the  altar  for  the  celebration  of  Mass.  When  it  was 
over  he  took  to  his  bed — the  bed  from  which  he  was  destined 
never  to  rise.  On  the  6th  of  May,  his  pure  and  princely 
spirit  passed  to  the  bosom  of  God. 

The  revered  Father  Gallitzin’ s besc  eulogy  is  his  work. 
He  erected  first  chapel  in  what  now  comprises  the  three 
dioceses  of  Pittsburg,  Alleghany  City,  and  Erie.  His  cher- 


FATHER  DEMETRWS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 


781 


ished  Loretto  is  the  most  Catholic  village  in  the  United 
States.  Not  till  the  traveller  has  pressed  the  soil  of  Cam- 
bria county  does  he  feel  that  he  is  in  a truly  Christian  land, 
as  he  catches  sight  of  the  ten  Catholic  churches  and  three 
monasteries — all  of  which  cropped  out  of  Loretto,  under  the 
creative  and  fostering  hands  of  this  apostolic  and  wonderful 
man.  What  share  he  had  in  its  material  prosperity  may  be 
judged  from  the  fact  that  he  spent  over  8150, COO  in  its  im- 
provement. Though  for  many  years  Vicar-General  of  the 
Bishop  of  Philadelphia,  he  firmly  refused  all  offers  of  be- 
ing raised  to  the  episcopal  dignity.  Having  renounced  the 
dignities  of  the  world,  he  did  not  aspire  to  those  of  the 
Church. 

Long  before  his  death,  however,  he  was  held  in  universal 
respect.  The  name  Gallitzin  has  since  been  given  to  a fine 
village. 

His  love  of  books  was  remarkable.  He  had  collected  a 
large  mimber,  and  truthfully  inscribed  on  these  dear  com- 
panions of  his  solitude  the  words  : Gallitzin  and  his 

friends.” 

On  one  occasion  he  had  given  a liberal  alms  to  a poor 
traveller,  who  afterwards  squandered  the  money  at  a tav- 
ern. When  informed  of  the  deception,  the  good  and  noble 
donor  replied,  “ I gave  it  not  to  him,  but  to  God.” 

In  an  age  of  pride  and  pretension,  the  humility  of  this 
great  man  is  truly  touching.  For  many  years  he  suppressed 
the  illustrious  name  of  Gallitzin,  and  was  known  simply  as 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Smith.'  When  told  of  the  fame  of  his  writ- 
ings, he  said  that  “he  was  glad  that  the  same  God  who  had 
enabled  an  ass  to  speak — who  had  enabled  the  unlettered  to 
convert  the  universe,  had  also  enabled  his  ignorance  to 
say  something  in  favor  of  the  Catholic  Church.” 

Over  thirteen  years  after  the  death  of  Father  Gallitzin, 
his  loved  Loretto  was  visited  by  the  Apostolic  N uncio.  Mgr. 
Bedini.  He  was  delighted.  “This  village,”  he  writes, 

* It  will  be  remembered  that  he  set  out  on  his  travels  as  Augustine  Bchrmt^  or  in  English, 
&fnxth.  At  the  seminary,  when  pursuing  his  studies,  he  was  known  by  that  name.  He  wasnat 
■rakzed  as  Augustine  Smith,  and  it  was  only  many  years  after  that,  for  good  reasons,  he  »» 
•umed  his  family  name. 


782 


FATHER  DEMETRIUS  AUGUSTINE  GALLITZIN. 


“ sanctified  by  the  apostleship  of  Prince  Demetrins  Gallit 
*in,  is  situated  upon  the  highest  mountains  of  Pennsylvania^ 
and  is  inhabited  by  Germans — all  Catholics  without  excep* 
tion.  My  carriage  was  preceded  by  about  five  hundred  per- 
sons on  horseback — men  and  women — and  followed  by  fifty 
vehicles.  This  peaceful  cortege,  defiling  joyously  around 
the  vast  mountains,  under  a most  brilliant  sun,  was  to  us  as 
solemn  as  it  was  touching.” 

“As  he  had  taken  for  his  models,”  says  Very  Rev. 
Thomas  Heyden,  the  dear  friend  and  biographer  who  re- 
ceived the  prince-priest’s  last  breath,  “the  lives  of  the 
saints,  the  Francis  of  Saleses,  the  Charles  Borromeos,  the 
Vincents  of  Paul,  so,  like  them,  he  was  distinguished  for  his 
tender  and  lively  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin.  He  lost 
no  opportunity  of  extolling  the  virtues  of  Mary.  He  en- 
deavored to  be  an  imitator  of  her,  as  she  was  of  Christ.  He 
recited  the  Rosary  every  evening  among  his  household ; 
and  inculcated  constantly  on  his  people  this  admirable  de- 
votion, and  all  the  other  pious  exercises  in  honor  of  Mary. 

“ The  church  in  which  he  said  daily  Mass,  he  had  dedicated 
under  the  invocation  of  this  ever-glorious  Virgin,  whom  all 
nations  were  to  call  Blessed.  It  was  in  honor  of  Mary,  and 
to  place  his  people  under  her  peculiar  patronage,  that  he 
gave  the  name  of  Loretto  to  the  town  he  founded  here,  after 
the  far-famed  Loretto,  which,  towering  above  the  blue  wave 
of  the  Adriatic,  on  Ihe  Italian  coast,  exhibits  to  the  Chris- 
tian pilgrim  the  hallowed  and  magnificent  temple  which 
contains  the  sainted  shrine  of  Mary’s  humble  house  in  which 
she  at  Nazareth  heard  announced  the  mystery  of  the  Incar- 
nation, and  which  the  mariners,  as  they  pass  to  encounter 
the  perils  of  the  deep,  or  return  in  safety  from  them, 
salute,  chanting  the  Joyous  hymn.  Am  Maris  Stella.  For, 
like  St.  John,  he  recognized  hi  her  a mother  recommended 
to  him  by  the  words  of  the  dying  Jesus  : ‘ He  said  to  the 
Disciple,  behold  thy  Mother !’  And  so,  when  his  frame 
was  worn  out  in  her  service,  and  her  Son’ s,  he  went  up  to  see 
her  face  on  high.” 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D., 

FIBST  BISHOP  OF  CHARLESTON,  S.  C.‘ 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  SCHOOL-BOY  BECOMES  A BISHOP. 

Sarly  years — '■'‘The  little  PapisV — Leaves  law  forthe^ 
ology — A patriot  priest — Is  appointed  to  the  parish  of 
Bandon — His  difficulties — Appointment  to  the  see  of 
Charleston— Items  from  the  Bishop' s diary. 

Bishop  England  has  been  called  “the  light  of  the  Ameri- 
can hierarchy.’’  Had  he  lived  in  the  early  days  of  Chris-, 
tianity,  or  in  the  ages  of  Faith,  or  in  the  times  of  the  so- 
called  Reformation,  the  world  won  Id  have  ranked  him 
among  the  foremost  men  and  heroes  of  heroic  times. 

John  England  was  born  at  Cork,  Ireland,  on  September 
23d,  1786.  His  boyhood  was  in  the  days  of  his  country’s 
trial  and  persecution.  The  wrongs  he  saw  and  suffered 
made  a lasting  impression  on  his  gifted  mind  and  character. 
Indeed,  the  enthusiastic  love  of  his  Faith  and  his  native  isle 
were  ever  the  cherished  affections  whi('h  dwelt  down  deepest 
in  his  great  heart.  His  first  instruction  was  received  in  a 
Protestant  school,  as  there  was  no  other  to  which  he  could 
go.  Here  the  soul  of  the  brave  boy  was  daily  pained  by  in- 
sult. Often  to  expose  him  to  the  contempt  of  the  class,  the 

' chief  antboritiee  need  : Clarke,  “ Lives  of  the  Deceased  Bishops  of  the  Catholic  Church  in 
the  United  States;”  Maguire,  “The  Irish  in  America;”  “The  works  of  Bishop  England;* 
Tkt  VniUd  SUtU»  Catholic  Uagaaine  ; The  Metropolitan. 


783 


784 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


bigoted  teacher  would  sneeringly  call  him  ^^the  littU 
Papist.^' 

Young  England  began  his  career  in  life  by  the  study  of 
law.  Two  years  spent  in  the  office  of  an  eminent  barris- 
ter had,  no  doubt,  a beneficial  effect  in  developing  his  pre- 
cise and  practical  mind.  His  own  pious  inclinations,  and 
the  designs  of  Providence,  however,  led  him  to  enter  the 
Church — to  give  himself  to  God.  His  excellent  parents  en- 
couraged his  noble  resolution,  and  he  began  his  theological 
studies  in  Carlow  College.  Here  his  splendid  talents  were 
brought  out  in  all  their  shining  greatness.  Before  he  was 
ordained,  Dr.  Moylan,  the  venerable  Bishop  of  Cork,  re- 
called him  to  his  own  diocese,  and  appointed  the  student  of 
theology  President  of  the  Diocesan  Seminary  at  Cork.  He 
was  ordained  in  October,  1808,  Dr.  Moylan  having  obtained 
a dispensation,  as  Mr.  England  had  not  reached  the  canoni- 
cal age  of  twenty-five. 

His  career  as  a fearless  priest  and  patriot  now  made  him  a 
man  of  mark — revered  and  loved  by  the  Irish  people — feared 
and  hated  by  the  government.  As  the  editor  and  proprietor 
of  the  Cork  Chronicle,  he  hurled  forth  articles  that  fell  like 
'thunderbolts  among  his  political  and  religious  enemies. 
On  one  occasion  he  was  even  fined  the  round  sum  of  five 
hundred  pounds  for  his  freedom  of  speech.  But  though 
rich  in  truth,  he  was  poor  in  money  ; and  while  he  continued 
to  give  out  the  former  with  a lavish  hand,  he  took  good  care 
not  to  pay  cash  that  he  did  not  owe.  Father  England  was 
on  intimate  terms  with  the  illustrious  O’Connell ; and  by  his 
powerful  pen  he  did  much  to  hasten  Catholic  emancipation 
in  Ireland. 

In  1817,  Rev.  Mr.  England  was  appointed  parish  priest  of 
Bandon,  a place  of  such  bitter  bigotry  that  over  the  entrance 
was  placed  the  famous  inscription  which  warmly  welcomed 
■‘the  Turk,  the  Atheist,  and  the  Jew,”  but  severely  warned 
“the  Papist”  to  keep  away.  The  fearless  priest,  hoAvever, 
entered  on  his  duties,  undeterred  even  by  this  inscription. 
On  several  occasions  his  hair- breadth  escapes  from  murder 
are  thrilling  enough  to  have  occurred  in  border  Indian  life. 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D.  785 

But  even  in  these  dangerous  adventures,  God  had  His  designs 
on  the  future  American  prelate.  Such  training  admirably 
fitted  him  for  the  toilsome  and  thorny  road  which  he  was  to 
travel  in  our  own  Republh 

During  the  first  three  years  of  his  episcopate,  Bishop  Ei.^ 
land  kept  a diary ; and  from  it  we  make  some  selections. 
It  opens  thus : 

“On  Monday,  the  10th  of  July,  1820,  I received  in  Ban- 
don  a letter  from  the  Rev.  Henry  Hughes,  dated  June 
17th,  1820,  at  Rome,  informing  me  that  on  the  preceding 
Monday  I had  been  appointed  Bishop  of  Charleston,’  in  South 
Carolina,  and  requesting  of  me,  for  various  reasons  therein 
alleged,  to  accept  of  this  appointment. 

“ September  215^. — I received  the  grace  of  episcopal  conse- 
cration in  the  Catholic  church  of  St.  Finbar,  in  the  city  of *  * 
Cork,  from  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Murphy,  Bishop  of  the  dio- 
cese, assisted  by  the  Rt.  Rev.  Dr.  Maram,  Bishop  of  Ossory, 
and  Kelly,  first  Bishop  of  Richmond  (A^a.),  whose  appoint- 
ment was  subsequent  to  mine,  but  whose  consecration  took 
place  at  Kilkenny,  on  the  24th  of  August.  There  were 
present,  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Everard,  Archbishop  of  Myte- 
lene,  coadjutor  of  the  Most  Rev.  Dr.  Bray,  Archbishop  of 
Cashel,  and  the  Rt.  Rev.  Drs.  Coppinger,  of  Cloyne  and 
Ross,  Sughrue,  of  Ardfert  and  Aghadoc  (Kerry),  and  Tuohy, 
of  Limerick.* 

October  Wfh. — Having  many  applications  from  priests 
and  candidates  for  places  on  the  American  mission,  I ap- 
pointed my  brother,  the  Rev.  Thomas  R.  England,  and  the  Rev. 
Thomas  O'Keefe,  my  Vicars -General,  for  the  purpose  prin- 
cipally of  selecting  such  of  those  as  I may  afterwards  want, 
and  if  necessary,  having  them  ordained. 


* Which  had  jnst  been  created  an  episcopal  see. 

* Dr.  England’s  name  had  already  been  mentioned  by  some  of  the  Irish  Bishops  in  connection 
with  the  episcopal  dignity.  While  he  did  not  shrink  from  a position  so  becoming  to  his  talents 
and  nsefnlness.  he  declared  that  he  wonld  never  wear  a mitre  in  any  coontry  that  was  subject  to 
the  British  flag.  . . . The  usual  oath  of  allegiance  administered  at  their  consecration  to 
bishops  who  were  British  subjects,  was  positively  declined  by  him.  He  intended  as  an  Ameri- 
can prelate  to  become  an  American  citizen  as  soon  as  the  laws  wonld  permit,  and  regarded  the 
oath  as  repngnant  to  the  new  allegiance  of  his  choice.  The  consecrating  Bishop  at  first  hesi- 
tated about  omitting  this  customary  ceremony,  but  finding  the  Bishop-elect  determined  to  seek 
consecration  elsewhere,  before  he  would  yield  this  point,  consented  to  the  omission.— C7ar*«. 


786 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  -ENGLAND,  D.D. 


“This  day  was  the  anniversary — twelve  years — of  my  ordi- 
nation to  the  priesthood.  On  this  day  I parted  from  my  fam- 
ily, to  go  whither  I thought  Grod  had  called  me,  but  whither 
I had  no  other  desire  to  go.  Should  this  be  read  by  a 
stranger,  let  him  pardon  that  weakness  of  our  common 
nature  which  then  affected  me,  and  does  now,  after  the  lapse 
of  three  months. 

“ December  2Wi. — Pound  soundings  in  thirty-tive  fathoms 
water,  and  on  the  next  day  saw  the  Hunting  Islands,  on  the 
coast  of  South  Carolina,  after  a very  tedious  and  unpleasant 
passage.  On  the  evening  of  the  27th,  came  to  anchor  off 
Charleston,  and  on  the  28th  crossed  it,  and  worked  up  the 
channel,  and  came  to  anchor  in  the  evening. ' 

'‘'December  30^7i. — Came  on  shore  in  Charleston;  saw' 
the  Rev.  Benedict  Fenwick,  S.  J.,"  who  was  Yicar-Grenei-al 
of  the  Archbishop  of  Baltimore,  w'ho  exhibited  to  me  his 
papers.  I gave  him  my  bulls  and  certificates,  received  the 
resignation  of  his  authority,  and  renew'ed  his  faculties  of 
Vicar-General  for  my  diocese,  as  Bishop  of  Charleston, 
which  he  accepted. 

'■'■December  31st. — Being  Sunday,  I had  the  happiness  of 
celebrating  Mass,  took  possession  of  the  church,  had  my 
bulls  published,  and  preached.” 


• Bishop  England  was  accompanied  by  his  youngest  sister,  who  had  resolved  to  share  hie  dif- 
ficulties, and  be  near  her  great  brother. 

’ Father  Fenwick  afterwards  became  Bishop  of  Boston.  See  sketch  of  him  in  Popular 
<ory  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States,  p.  274 


CHAPTER  11. 


AN  IKISH  APOSTLE  IN  AMERICA, 

Staie  of  the  new  diocese — An  apostolic  toiler — The  Bishop 
harefooted'" — Dr.  England's  visit  to  Savannah — At 
Augusta — Visits  Locust  G-rove — Mrs.  Thompson — His 
first  open-air  sermon — At  Warrington — Columbia — A 
course  of  lectures  at  Charleston — A new  catechism — 
The  Book  Society" — A suggestive  quotation  in  rela- 
tion to  Wilmington. 

/ 

It  may  be  said  that  Bishop  England  began  his  labors  in 
America  on  New  Years’  Day,  1821.  His  newly-erected  dio- 
cese embraced  three  States — North  Carolina,  South  Carolina, 
and  Georgia.  The  Catholic  Church  had  barely  an  existence 
in  this  region.  The  people  were  extremely  bigoted.  The 
difficulties  of  Dr.  England  therefore,  can  be  imagined,  rather 
than  portrayed ; but  his  master-spirit  pointed  out  the  line 
of  duty,  and  the  success  of  his  toils  was  one  of  the  noblest 
trtumphs  of  the  Faith  in  this  Republic. 

On  making  a rapid  survey  of  the  situation,  he  found  but 
two  churches  open  in  his  large  diocese ; and  his  clergy  were 
as  numerous  as  the  houses  of  worship ! The  anointed  herald 
of  the  Cross,  however,  came  bravely  up  to  his  work.  Around 
him  churches  began  to  rise.  He  travelled,  preached,  taught, 
and  confirmed.  Wherever  he  found  a few  scattered  Cath- 
olic families  in  hamlet,  town,  or  city,  he  assembled  them, 
formed  an  organization,  and  encouraged  them  to  hold  to- 
gether until  he  could  send  them  a pastor.  As  for  himself, 
he  performed  all  the  labors  and  endured  all  the  hardships 
of  a missionary  priest.  He  travelled  hundreds  of  miles.  His 
noble  spirit  of  poverty  and  self-sacrifice  reminds  us  of  the 
illustrious  De  Brebeuf . Such,  indeed,  was  this  great  Bishop' s 
’ 787 


788 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


personal  poverty  that  he  often  walked  the  burning  sands 
and  pavements  of  Charleston  with  his  bare  feet  on  the  ground. 
The  soles  of  his  shoes  had  been  worn  away,  and  the  upper 
leather  only  remained  decent ! 

The  first  thing  Dr.  England  did  after  his  arrival,  was  to 
make  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  condition  of 
his  poor  but  widely-spread  diocese.  He  found,  upon  inquiry, 
that  there  was  a congregation  at  Savannah,  but  that  it  had 
been  deserted.  He  therefore  determined,  without  delay, 
to  visit  Savannah,  Augusta,  Columbia,  and  other  towns 
within  his  jurisdiction.  Appointing  Father  Benedict  J.  Fen- 
wick, S.  J.,  his  Yicar-General,  with  full  powers,  until  his 
return  to  Charleston,  and  requesting  him  to  purchase  ground 
for  a second  church  in  that  city,  and  if  possible  procure  a 
good  site  for  a cathedral,  the  Apostolic  Bishop  boarded  the 
sloop  Delight,  and  sailed  for  Savannah  on  the  15th  of  Janu- 
ary, 1821. 

He  found  that  there  had  been  no  priest  in  that  city  since 
the  previous  October  ; and  to  repair  the  evil  caused  by  the 
want  of  a clergyman  for  so  long  a time,  he  commenced  a 
vigorous  course  of  instruction,  followed  by  the  administra- 
tion of  the  Holy  Sacraments.  The  following  entry  in  his 
diary  affords  an  idea  of  Dr.  England’s  energy,  and  of  the 
attention  which,  in  a few  days,  he  had  excited  among  non- 
Catholics. 

’■'•January  21st. — Heard  confessions,  celebrated  the  Holy 
Mass,  and  administered  the  Holy  Communion  to  twenty- 
seven  persons.  Gave  Confirmation  to  fifteen  persons.  At 
half-past  ten  o’clock,  I spoke  on  the  erection  of  the  see,  on 
my  own  authority,  and  publicly  committed  the  flock  of 
Savannah  to  the  care  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Browne  until  I should 
think  proper  to  remove  him  ; and  after  Mass  I preached  to 
a large  congregation,  amongst  whom  were  the  principal  law 
yers  of  Savannah,  and  many  other  strangers.  In  the  even 
ing  I had  vespers,  and  gave  an  exhortation  and  benediction 
- — church  crowded  and  surrounded.” 

The  next  entry  records  the  same  round  of  duty  with  this 
added:  “Was  asked  by  the  Mayor  and  others  to  preach  in 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHX  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


789 


the  Protestant  Episcopal  church,  which  I declined  for  the 
present.” 

Appointing  “John  Dillon  to  read  prayers  for  Mass  on 
Sunday,”  until  the  return  of  Rev.  Father  Browne,  whom 
he  took  with  him  on  his  visitation.  Dr.  England  proceeded 
to  Augusta,  which  he  reached  only  after  two  days  of  hard 
travelling.  After  some  brief  but  energetic  work  in  this  city, 
where  he  administered  Confirmation  “to  John  McCormack, 
Esq.,  and  forty-eight  others,”  he  set  out  for  Locust  Grove, 
whose  Catholic  congregation  had  not  seen  a priest  for  several 
years. 

“ Arrived  there  at  nightfall,”  continues  the  diary,  “and 
was  most  kindly  received  by  old  and  young  Mrs.  Thompson, 
to  the  former  of  whom  great  merit  is  due  before  God,  for 
preserving  the  Faith  in  this  country.  This  was  the  first 
Catholic  congregation  in  Georgia  ; it  was  formed  in  1794  or 
1795,  by  the  settlement  of  Mrs.  Thompson’s  family  and  a 
few  othei's  from  Maryland.  Bishop  Carroll,  of  Baltimore, 
sent  the  Rev.  Mr.  Le  Mercier  to  attend  them.  After  eigh- 
teen months  he  went  to  Savannah ; and  Rev.  Mr.  Sajet  then 
remained  seventeen  months,  and  returned  to  France.  There 
was  no  clergyman  there  until  November,  1810,  when  the 
Rev.  Robert  Browne  came  to  take  charge  of  Augusta  and 
its  vicinity,  and  remained  until  1815.  This  place  was  occa- 
sionally visited  by  Rev.  Mr.  Egan  and  Rev.  Mr.  Cooper.” 

It  was  at  Locust  Grove  that  Bishop  England  preached  his 
first  open-air  sermon.  “The  church  being  too  small,”  he 
writes,  “and  several  personshaving  collected  from  various 
parts  of  the  neighborhood,  I preached  from  an  elevation 
outside  to  about  four  hundred  persons.” 

Of  Warrington  he  says  : “ I met  three  Cherokee  Indians, 
viz..  Colonel  Dick,  who  speaks  a little  English,  John  Thomp- 
son, and  Sampson,  to  whom  I gave  their  breakfast.  I showed 
the  Colonel  my  ring  and  cross,  of  which  he  took  particular 
notice,  and  I told  him  I intended  visiting  his  nation  ; he  said 
he  would  know  me.” 

On  reaching  Columbia,  Dr.  England  found  a flock  consist- 
ing “of  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  persons,  principally 


790 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


Irish  laborers  employed  in  making  the  canal.”  There  was 
no  church,  and  the  Bishop  “ therefore  preached  in  the  Court- 
house that  night  to  a very  numerous  and  respectable  congre- 
gation,” mostly  Protestants.  He  made  strenuous  efforts  to 
begin  a church  ; and  on  his  committee  of  collection  we  see 
such  genuine  Irish  Catholic  names  as  Peter  McGuire  and 
John  Heffernan. 

Bishop  England  now  returned  to  Charleston,  and  addressed 
himself  to  the  great  labor  of  his  life.  He  began  a course  of 
lectures,  which  laid  the  foundation  of  a fame  that  ere  long 
spread  through  every  State  in  the  Union.  During  the  Lent 
he  discussed  the  principal  truths  of  religion  in  a way  which 
did  not  fail  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  most  thoughtful  and 
intellectual.  Nor  was  this  labor  without  its  reward.  In  his 
diary  we  find  the  names  of  several  converts  recorded,  in- 
cluding that  of  “a  lawyer  of  eminence.” 

In  the  last  week  of  Lent,  we  find  this  sleepless  toiler  in 
God’s  vineyard  issuing  his  first  book.  It  was  a catechism, 
which,  he  says,  “I  had  mmch  labor  in  compiling  from  var- 
ious others,  and  adding  several  parts  which  I considered 
necessary  to  be  explicitly  dwelt  upon  under  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  my  diocese.” 

In  the  Spring  of  1821  he  established  the  “ Book  Society,'* 
and  had  the  necessary  measures  taken  to  form  a general 
committee,  and  to  have  the  society  extended  throughout 
the  whole  diocese. 

The  following  quotation  from  Dr.  England’ s diary  is  sadly 
suggestive  in  relation  to  the  state  of  the  Catholics  at  the 
South.  It  was  written  of  Wilmington,  but  might  be  truth- 
fully applied  to  many  other  places  : 

“ May  IQth  (1821). — Celebrated  Mass  at  my  lodgings,  and 
gave  an  exhortation  to  those  who  attended.  After  break- 
fast met  the  Catholics,  about  twenty  men — not  a woman  or 
child  of  the  Catholic  Faith.  No  priest  had  ever  been  fixed 
here,  nor  in  the  neighborhood.  A Rev.  Mr.  Burke  had 
spent  a fortnight  here,  about  twenty-five  years  before,  and  a 
Jesuit,  going  to  some  Spanish  settlement,  spent  two  or  three 
days  in  the  town,  about  the  year  1815,  and  baptized  the 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D 


791 


children  of  Mr. ; but  their  mother  being  a Methodist, 

they  were  not  educated  in  the  Faith. 

“The  Catholics  who  live  here,  and  they  who  occasionally 
come  here,  were  in  the  habit  of  going  to  other  places  of 
worship — Episcopal  Protestant,  Methodist,  and  Presby- 
terian— and  had  nearly  lost  all  idea,  of  Catholicity.  1 
spoke  on  the  necessity  of  their  assembling  together  on  Sun- 
days for  prayer  and  instruction,  and  of  their  forming  a 
branch  of  the  Book  Society,  to  both  of  which  they  readily 
agreed,  and  then  recommended  their  entering  into  a STib- 
scription  to  procure  a lot  for  a church,  and  to  commence 
building,  as  I would  take  care  they  should  be  • occasionally 
visited  by  a priest.  I also  exhorted  them  to  prepare  for  the 
Sacraments. 

“I  received  an  invitation  from  the  pastor  and  trustees  of 
the  Presbyterian  church  to  use  their  building  (the  best  in 
the  town),  which,  upon  consideration,  I accepted.  I was 
waited  upon  by  the  Protestant  minister,  who  offered  me  his 
church  also,  which,  of  course,  I declined,  as  having  accepted 
of  the  other.  In  the  evening  I preached  to  a very  large 
congregation,  on  the  nature  of  the  Catholic  religion.” 


CHAPTER  III. 


GLANCES  AT  AN  HEROIC  LIFE. 

Father  England’ s great  fame  and  worth — His  love  for 
the  United  States — The  founder  of  the  Catholic  press 
of  t?iis  Repuhlic — How  he  travelled — The  power  of 
tfolher  O’  NeilV  s flute — Preaching  on  a stump  by  the 
wayside — A pen-picture — How  the  great  Bishop  pun- 
ished a conceited,  ill-hred  Preacher. 

As  years  vveat  on,  so  did  the  fame  of  Bishop  England  in- 
crease, until  the  time  came  when,  from  one  end  of  the  Re- 
public to  the  other,  his  bright  name  became  a household 
word  with  Catholics  of  every  nationality,  who  recognized  in 
him  an  heroic  champion,  fully  equipped,  and  equal  to  the 
good  fight.  The  feelings  of  his  own  countrymen  towards 
him  cannot  be  described,  so  intense  was  their  pride  in  hia 
great  qualities — his  matchless  power  of  tongue  and  pen,  his 
resistless  force  as  a controversialist,'  his  wonderful  capacity 
for  public  affairs — the  nobleness  and  grandeur  of  his  nature, 
which  all  men  respected,  and  which  made  for  him  the  fast- 
est friends,  even  among  those  who  were  not  of  the  Catholi(? 
Church. 

There  were,  it  is  true,  other  great  and  good  bishops,  who. 
by  their  holy  lives  and  lofty  characters,  commanded  a re- 
spectful toleration  for  their  Faith  ; but  Dr.  England  extorted 


> The  clinching  force  of  the  Bishop’s  manner  of  reasoning  may  he  illnstrated  by  the  following 
reply,  given  by  an  Irishman,  who  was  one  of  the  warmest  admirers  of  his  distinguished  country- 
man ; 

“ Well,  Pat,”  said  a lady  to  the  Irishman,  “ what  do  you  think  of  your  Bishop  ?” 

“Think  of  him,  ma’am  1 Faith,  ma’am,  I think  a deal  of  him,  and  why  not?  Isn’t  he- 
grand,  ma’am,  when  he  crosses  his  two  arms  on  his  breast,  and  looks  around  at  them  all,  after 
one  of  his  regular  smashers,  as  much  as  to  say— ‘ Answer  me  that,  and  be  d d to  yon  I’  ” 

“ Oh  Pat !”  remonstrated  the  lady,  who,  whatever  she  thought  of  the  criticism,  was  some- 
what startled  at  the  rather  forcible  manner  in  which  it  was  expressed. — Maguxrt. 

792 


RT.  RFV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.  D. 

BISHOP  CP  charleston. 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHS  EEGlAJSD,  D.D. 


793 


respect  for  his  religion  by  the  magic  power  with  which  he 
unfolded  its  principles  to  those  who  crowded  around  him 
wherever  he  went,  and  refuted  the  calumnies  and  misrepre- 
sentations that  had  been  the  stock-in-trade  of  the  enemies  of 
the  ancient  Faith  for  centuries.  Like  all  Catholic  Irishmen 
of  that  day,  as  also  of  the  present,  the  great  prelate  became 
an  American  citizen  as  soon  as  the  law  would  permit;  nor 
did  he  ever  cease  to  identify  himself  thoroughly  with  his. 
adopted  country,  proud  of  her  greatness,  jealous  of  her  honor, 
loving  her  beyond  all  others,  save  that  dear  old  land  whose 
recollections  lay  fondly  cherished  dovui  deep  in  his  heart. 

The  great  aim  of  Bishop  England’s  bfe  in  this  country 
seems  to  have  been  to  present  the  Catholic  Church,  her  doc- 
trines and  practices,  in  all  their  truth  and  beauty  and  gran- 
deur before  the  American  people.  In  his  efforts  to  do  this, 
his  labors,  perhaps,  have  never  been  equalled  by  any  other 
man.  It  was  with  this  object  he  established  the  U 'iited  States 
Catholic  Miscellany,  in  1822.  On  his  arrival  in  America  he 
found  the  Catholic  Church  comparatively  defenceless  ; but  he 
soon  rendered  it  a dangerous  task  to  attack  or  vilify  the  Faith 
of  ages.  Many  who  ventured  on  this  mode  of  warfare  were 
glad  to  retreat  from  the  field  before  the  crushing  weapons  oi 
logic,  erudition,  and  eloquence  with  which  he  battled  for  his 
Church,  his  creed,  and  his  people. 

He  was  the  real  founder  of  Catholic  journalism  in  thi^ 
Republic.’  He  saw  that  our  religion  was  regarded  with 
contempt ; and  to  him  fell  the  splendid  work  of  changing 
the  cnrrent  of  public  opinion,  of  giving  the  Catholic  Church 
a certain  respectability — a status  in  this  Republic.  A pre- 
late endowed  with  such  grasp  of  mind  at  once  perceived  the 
value  of  the  press.  For  twenty  years  the  product  of  Dr. 
England’s  magic  pen  appeared  in  the  columns  of  the  Catholic 
Miscellany.  His  accomplished  young  sister  was  for  a time 
his  second  self  in  the  management  of  the  paper ; and  it  is 
said  she  often  toned  down  the  fierce  logic  of  his  bold  and 
pointed  articles,  while  by  her  own  contributions  the  pages 


• The  UniUd  States  Catholic  MUccllany  can  be  styled  the  first  Catholic  newspaper  published  i* 
the  United  States.  It  ceased  pnblication  in  1861. 


794 


THE  RIGHT  RET.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


of  the  Journal  were  frequently  graced  and  enriched.  Bui 
God  called  away  this  gifted  and  beautiful  girl,  and  the  illus 
trious  Bishop  shed  many  a tear  on  her  untimely  grave 
Under  such  noble  auspices  began  our  first  American  Catholi* 
newspaper. 

Bishop  England’s  diocese,  as  we  have  already  remarked, 
embraced  three  large  States,  with  a poor  and  scattered 
Catholic  population.  It  was  a vast  territory,  and  every- 
thing was  to  create.  But  the  energy  and  zeal  of  this  extra- 
ordinary man  were  equal  to  the  difficulties  of  his  mission. 
He  toiled  and  travelled  in  this  manner. 

He  possessed  a little  carriage  and  two  strong  ponies,  which 
he  managed  to  purchase,  with  the  aid  of  a few  moneyed 
friends,  and,  accompanied  by  a negro  boy  as  driver,  he 
would  push  on  from  place  to  place,  preaching,  instructing, 
and  administering  the  Sacraments  ; and  on  his  return — it 
might  be  In  three,  six,  or  even  nine  months — he  would  read- 
ily and  even  profitably  dispose  of  his  cattle,  then  more 
valuable  than  at  the  beginning  of  the  Journey,  owing  to  the 
training  to  which  they  had  been  subjected. 

Many  a strange  incident,  and  even  startling  adventure, 
occurred  to  the  apostolic  traveller  during  his  long  Journeys, 
at  a time  when  the  roads  were  little  better  than  mere  tracks. 
The  population  was  thinly  scattered,  and  even  the  rudest 
sort  of  accommodation  was  not  always  to  be  had.  Often  the 
shelter  of  the  forest  was  all  that  could  be  obtained  for  the 
traveller. 

Once  in  a town  or  city,  he  was  sure  of  being  well  received. 
Prejudice,  it  is  true,  kept  some  aloof  from  the  “Popish 
Bishop,”  but  American  curiosity,  and  the  irrepressible  desire  to 
listen  to  sermons,  discourses,  and  lectures  of  any  description, 
impelled  numbers  to  hear  a man  who  was  famous  for  his  elo- 
quence. Halls,  court-houses,  concert-rooms,  churches  and 
chapels,  would  be  freely  placed  at  his  disposal ; and,  indeed, 
the  probability  is  that  he  rarely  suffered  from  lack  of  hospi- 
tality under  siich  circumstances. 

There  were  occasions,  however,  when  the  Bishop  found  it 
difficiilt  enough  to  make  out  a dinner,  or  secure  the  shelter 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


796 


of  a roof  against  the  night.  Even  in  the  Southern  States, 
which  are  proverbial  for  the  unaffected  hospitality  of  their 
people,  churls  were  to  be  met  with — at  least,  in  Dr.  Eng- 
land’s time. 

One  evening,  as  the  Bishop  of  Charleston  was  travelling 
along,  accompanied  by  Father  O’Neill,  one  of  his  few 
priests,  he  drew  up  at  a house  of  rather  moderate  dimen- 
sions. The  master  proved  to  be  a mixture  of  surliness  and 
bad  nature.  Dinner  was  called,  and  given,  and  an  exorbi- 
tant price  charged.  But  there  was  to  be  no  further  ac- 
commodation. “You  cannot  stop  to-night,  no  how,”  ex- 
claimed the  agreeable  owner  of  the  mansion  ; and  his  ugly 
features  seemed  to  be  as  emphatic  as  his  language. 

After  dinner.  Dr.  England  took  a chair  on  the  piazza,  and 
read  his  office.  Father  O’Neill,  having  no  desire  to  enjoy 
the  company  of  his  unwilling  entertainer,  sauntered  towards 
the  carriage,  a little  distance  off,  where  the  boy  was  feeding 
the  horses  ; and  taking  his  flute  from  the  portmanteau,  he 
sat  on  a log,  and  began  his  favorite  air,  “The  last  Eose  of 
Summer.’’  The  toil-worn  Irish  priest  seemed  to  breathe  the 
very  soul  of  tenderness  into  this  exquisite  melody.  From  one 
beautiful  air  the  player  wandered  to  another,  while  the  negro 
boy  grinned  with  delight,  and  even  the  horses  seemed  to  enjoy 
their  food  with  a keener  relish.  Here,  indeed,  was  exem- 
plified the  saying  that — 

“ Music  hath  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  breast.” 

As  the  sweet  notes  stole  along  on  the  soft  air  of  a South- 
ern night,  and  reached  the  inhospitable  residence,  a head 
was  eagerly  thrust  forth,  and  the  projecting  ears  thereof 
appeared  eagerly  to  drink  in  the  flood  of  melody.  It  seemed 
celestial.  Another  lovely  air  began — one  of  those  which 
bring  pearly  tear-drops  to  the  eye,  and  fill  the  heart  with  the 
balm  of  happiness — and  was  playing  with  lingering  sweet- 
ness, when  a voice,  husky  with  suppressed  emotion,  was  heard 
uttering  these  words  : ‘ ‘ Sti’angers  ! don’ t go  ! — stay  all 
night.  We’ll  fix  you  somehow.” 

It  was  the  voice  of  the  surly  but  now  charmed  host  1 


796 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


That  evening  the  two  guests  enjoyed  the  best  seats  around 
the  hearth,  Father  O’Neill  playing  till  a late  hour  for  the 
family. 

Next  morning  the  master  of  the  house  would  not  accept 
of  the  least  compensation.  “No,  no.  Bishop!  No,  no, 
Mr.  O’Neill! — not  a cent!  you’re  heartily  welcome  to  it. 
Come  as  often  as  you  please,  and  stay  as  long  as  you  wish  ; 
we’ll  be  always  glad  to  see  you  ; but — ” and  he  directed 
his  words  to  Father  O’Neill — sure  and  don't  forget 
the  flute!" 

The  eager  desire  to  hear  Bishop  England  was  not  confined 
to  any  particular  class.  It  was  common  to  all.  A somewhat 
curious  instance,  illustrative  of  his  popularity  as  a preacher, 
occurred  during  one  of  his  journeys.  Arriving  at  a kind  of 
wayside  inn,  or  what  may  be  described  as  a carman’s  stage, 
Dr.  England  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  a large  convoy  of 
cotton-wagons,  drawn  by  mules  and  horses,  “with  a number 
of  drivers  and  attendants,  both  white  and  colored. 

The  prelate’s  ponies  had  been  fed,  and  he  was  just  about 
to  resume  his  journey,  when  a grave,  elderly  man,  who 
seemed  to  be  in  command,  approached  him,  with  everj^  mark 
of  respect,  and  said  : “ Stranger,  are  you  Bishop  England  ?” 

The  Bishop  answered,  “Yes.” 

“ Well,  Mr.  Bishop,”  continued  the  grave  personage, 
“ we’ve  heard  tell  of  you  much.  The  folks  around  say  you 
are  the  most  all-fired  powerful  preacher  in  this  country.  I 
had  to  leave  Washington  before  you  got  there  ; and  I can’t 
get  to  Milledgeville  till  you’re  gone.  Would  you,  Mr.  Bishop, 
mind  giving  us  a bit  of  a sermon  right  here?  It’ll  obleege 
me  and  my  friends  much — do,  Mr.  Bishop.” 

“Do,  Mr.  Bishop  !”  was  taken  up,  in  full  chorus,  by  the 
rest. 

The  appeal  so  urged  was  irresistible,  and  the  zealous  mis- 
sionary yielded  a ready  assent. 

The  Bishop  took  his  stand  on  the  stump  of  a tree  which 
had  been  cut  down  to  widen  the  road.  The  branches  of  a 
huge  elm  flung  their  welcome  shadow  over  the  preacher  and 
the  attentive  group  that  clustered  around  in  mute  exoectation. 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAMJ,  D D 


797 


It  wa»  a scene  for  a painter — the  dense,  overhanging  forest, 
the  rude,  weather-stained  log-i  onse,  the  open  clearing,  lit  up 
by  a glowing  Southern  sun,  the  large,  rough  wagons,  with 
their  horses  and  mules,  the  hardy,  bronzed  countenances  of 
the  whites,  and  the  great  rolling  eyes  and  gleaming  teeth  of 
negroes  of  every  hue  and  tint.  But  the  chief  tigure  of  all 
was  not  unworthy  of  its  prominence — a man  in  the  prime  of 
life,  of  weU-knit  and  powerful  frame.  His  face  was  strong, 
massive,  dark,  and  full  of  power  and  passion.  His  eye 
gleamed  with  the  fire  that  glowed  within,  and  his  look 
seemed  to  search  the  very  depths  of  the  soul.  This  was 
Dr.  England,  as  he  stood  uiDon  that  stump  by  the  wayside. 

Soon  the  willing  audience  was  bound  by  the  spell  of  his 
eloquence,  as  he  unfolded  before  them  the  solemn  truths  of 
religion,  and  explained  to  them  their  duties  to  God  and  to 
their  fellow-men.  He  had  been  about  twenty  minutes  ad- 
dressing the  crowd,  when  the  leader  stej^ped  forward,  and, 
raising  his  hand,  said  : “ That  will  do,  Mr.  Bishop,  that  will 
do.  We’re  much  obleeged  to  you,  Mr.  Bishop.  Its  all  just 
as  the  folks  say — you’re  an  all -fired  powerful  preacher 
We’d  like  to  hear  you  always,  but  we  musn’t  stop  you  now. 
Thank  you,  Mr.  Bishop — thank  you,  Mr.  Bishop.” 

“Thank  you,  Mr.  Bishop,”  cried  the  rest  in  chorus.  And 
amid  a wild  cheer  that  would  have  tried  the  nerves  of  horses 
less  trained  than  his,  Bishop  England  continued  his 
journey. 

The  illustrious  Bishop’s  tact  and  fund  of  wit  were  equal 
to  his  eloquence,  and  more  than  once  he  had  occasion  to 
summon  them  into  service.  We  have  but  room  for  an  in- 
stance. He  was  travelling,  on  one  occasion,  in  the  same 
stage  ^dth  a conceited  young  preacher.  The  young  man 
would  break  a lance  with  the  great  “ Popish  Bishop  and, 
perhaps,  the  happy  result  might  become  known  even  in  the 
halls  of  the  Vatican.  Dr.  England  was  engaged  in  earnest 
conversation  with  some  fellow-passengers  ; but  that  did  not 
prevent  the  preacher  from  asking  questions  about  the 
'■'•Scarlet  Woman,"  '' Anti-Christ,"  the  ''Pope,"  etc. 
Paul  was  continually  quoted.  It  was  nothing  but  Paul 


798 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.3. 


here,  and  Paul  there,  and  how  could  the  “Romanists” 
answer  Paul  ? 

At  first,  the  Bishop  paid  no  attention.  But  as  the  ill-bred 
preacher  stuck  to  his  points  with  the  pertinacity  of  a gad- 
fiy,  the  nuisance  became  intolerable.  Confronting  the  un- 
courteous  vender  of  texts,  Dr.  England  directed  the  blaze  of 
his  great  eyes,  which  gleamed  with  fun  and  fire,  uj^on  him, 
and  gave  utterance  to  this  strange  rebuke:  “Young  man! 
if  you  have  not  faith  and  piety  sufficient  to  induce  you  to 
call  the  Apostle,  ‘ Saint  Paul,’  at  least  have  the  good  man- 
ners to  call  him  ‘ Mister  Paul and  do  not  be  perpetually 
calling  him  ‘Paul,’  ‘Paul,’  as  if  you  considered  him  no 
better  than  a negro.” 

The  words,  assisted  by  the  comical  gravity  with  which 
they  were  uttered,  and  enforced  by  the  roar  of  laughter 
with  which  they  were  received  by  the  delighted  passengers, 
extinguished  the  poor  preacher,  who  rapidly  hid  himself  in 
the  town  at  which  the  stage  arrived.  Nor  did  the  affair  end 
here.  The  story  got  abroad,  and  the  next  Sunday,  wliile 
the  preacher  was  enlightening  an  audience,  some  irreverent 
wag  interrupted  him  by  repeating,  “Mister  Paul — Mister 
Paul.”  The  absurdity  of  the  affair  even  obliged  him  to 
leave  for  parts  unknown  I 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LAST  TEARS  OF  “THE  NOBLEST  ROMAN  OF  THEM  ALL.” 

Bishop  England  and  his  classical  school — Bigotry — Hit 
efforts  against  duelling— preaching  in  the  hall  of  the 
House  of  the  Representatives — His  extensive  influence 
— His  solicitude  for  all — His  'boundless  zeal — Dr.  Eng- 
land and  the  minister — ^‘•Boys,  the  Bishop  stripped 
to  his  shirt  r'’ — His  care  of  the  negroes — His  heroism 
dur  ing  the  plague — His  last  days — Scenes  at  his  death- 
bed— Glances  at  his  character. 

Bishop  England  was  the  reviver  of  classical  learning  in 
South  Carolina.  With  the  object  of  providing  a clergy  of 
his  own  for  the  diocese,  several  candidates  having  applied 
to  him,  he  opened  at  Charleston  a classical  school,  in  whicli 
these  aspirants  to  the  holy  ministry  were  made  teachers,  while 
they  pursued  their  theological  studies  under  Dr.  England 
himself.  This  school  received  numerous  scholars  from  the 
best  families  of  the  city,  and  yielded  a suflBcient  income  to 
support  the  theological  students  while  preparing  for  the 
priesthood. 

The  exercises  of  the  school,  and  its  public  exhibitions, 
gave  boundless  satisfaction  to  its  patrons  and  friends.  The 
scholars  increased  to  about  one  hundred  and  thirty,  and  the 
Bishop,  encouraged  by  the  bright  prospects  before  him,  in- 
curred a heavy  liability  in  securing  the  services  of  additional 
teachers  of  the  highest  capacity.  But,  unhappily,  at  this 
juncture  the  pent-up  bigotry  of  the  opposing  sects  burst 
forth  into  a storm  of  opposition  against  the  school,  and,  in 
general,  against  “the  errors  and  deformities  of  Popery.” 

The  press  and  the  pulpit  rang  loudly  with  the  denuncia- 
tions of  fanaticism.  Bigotry  grew  loud-mouthed.  Protes- 

799 


800 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  -JOHy  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


lants  were  told  that  they  were  taxing  themselves  to  set  up 
the  “ Romish”  Church,  and  to  educate  a “ Romish”  clergy. 
The  public  assurances  of  Dr.  England,  that  his  school  was 
exclusively  classical,  and  that  no  religious  exercises  or  in- 
structions were  used,  had  no  effect. 

Protestantism  was  alarmed.  The  Protestant  schools  were 
re-opened.  The  College  of  Charleston — which  had  been 
suspended  for  some  time — was  revived,  and  a new  impetus 
given  to  sectarianism. 

The  Bishop’s  school  and  seminary,  though  enfeebled,  was 
not  annihilated.  It  continued  to  bestow  a thorough  classi- 
cal and  mathematical  education  upon  the  students  who  re- 
sorted to  it,  and  supported  the  ecclesiastical  Seminary.  This 
Seminary,  under  Dr.  England’s  care,  trained  up  an  able,  edu- 
cated clergy  for  the  diocese  of  Charleston,  and  prepared  for 
the  ministry  some  of  the  most  honored  clergymen  of  other 
dioceses.' 

Thus  this  great  Catholic  Bishop  found  time  amidst  his 
pressing  avocations  to  promote  the  spread  of  literary  and 
scientific  knowledge  in  the  city  of  Charleston ; and  as  a 
minister  of  peace,  he  fulfilled  his  vocation  by  the  formation 
of  an  Anti-Duelling  Association,  of  which  General  Pinck- 
ney, of  Revolutionary  fame,  was  the  president.  Dr.  Eng- 
land’s address  before  this  association,  against  the  wildly 
stupid  practice  called  duelling,  is  one  of  the  most  forcible 
and  masterly  productions  ever  penned  in  anj^  language. 

At  the  suggestion  of  some  of  the  Southern  members  of 
Congress,  the  Bishop  was  invited  to  preach  in  the  hall  of 
the  House  of  Representatives,  at  Washington.  He  ac- 
cepted the  invitation,  and  was  the  first  Catholic  clergyman 
ever  occupying  that  place.  His  discourse  was  a noble  pro- 
duction, full  of  charity,  kindness,  and  winning  grandeur. 

There  was  no  portion  of  the  American  Church  in  which 
Dr.  England’s  influence  was  not  felt.  He  was  constantly 
consul  3d  by  bishops,  priests,  and  laymen  from  every  part 
of  the  country.  At  Rome  his  influence  in  Church  matters 

> Bishop  England  introduced  the  Ursulines  and  the  Sisters  of  Mercy  into  his  diocese  aa  relig- 
tons  female  teachers. 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


801 


in  this  country  was  very  great.  The  cardinals  called  him 
the  “ Steam  Bishop”  of  America. 

Wherever  the  Church  was  afflicted  or  wounded,  he  left  no 
remedy  unapplied.  His  gifted  mind  and  sound  judgment 
brought  all  their  forces  to  bear  on  such  troubles.  His  efforts 
to  heal  the  schism  in  the  Church  at  Philadelphia  were  un- 
tiring and  generous  ; and  although  his  endeavors,  like  so 
many  others,  proved  unavailing,  no  one  could  have  struggled 
more  than  he  did  to  achieve  success. 

Thus  we  see  that  his  zeal  was  not  confined  to  his  own 
diocese.  In  compliance  with  the  invitations  of  the  bishops 
and  priests  of  other  States,  this  extraordinarj^  man  often 
went  to  herald  the  truths  of  the  Catholic  Church,  or  to  ap- 
peal in  behalf  of  the  poor  and  afflicted,  in  his  owm  matchless 
style.  We  learn  that  in  the  summer  of  1830  he  lectured  in 
Cincinnati;  and,  as  a writer  of  the  time  says,  “a  new  im- 
pulse was  given  to  the  enquiry  for  religious  truth  by  a course 
of  lectures  preached  in  the  Cincinnati  Cathedral  by  the  il- 
lustrious John  England,  Bishop  of  Charleston.” 

During  one  of  his  visitations.  Dr.  England  had  been 
obliged  with  the  loan  of  a Protestant  church  for  the  pur- 
pose of  delivering  a course  of  lectures  on  the  Catholic  relig- 
ion. On  Saturday  evening  the  regular  pastor  came  to  him 
to  “ask  a favor.” 

“ I am  sure,”  said  the  Bishop,  “ you  would  not  ask  what 
I would  not  readily  grant.” 

“Occupy  my  pulpit,  then,  to-morrow!”  continued  the 
minister.  “ I have  been  so  much  engrossed  by  your  lectures 
through  the  week  that  I have  utterly  forgotten  my  own  pas- 
toral charge,, and  I am  unprepared  with  a sermon.” 

“I  should  be  most  happy  to  oblige  you,”  returned  the 
prelate  ; “ but  are  you  aware  that  we  can  have  no  partner- 
ships?” 

‘ ‘ I have  thought  of  all  that,  ’ ’ replied  the  minister  ‘ ‘ Regu- 
late everything  as  you  think  proper.” 

“At  least,  lean  promise  you,”  said  Dr.  England,  “that 
nothing  shall  be  said  or  done  which  you  or  any  of  your 
congregation  will  disapprove.” 


802 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


On  the  morrow  the  novel  spectacle  was  seen  of  a CathoUo 
bishop,  arrayed  in  his  ordinary  episcopal  vesture,  advancing 
to  the  pulpit  of  this  Protestant  congregation.  He  invited 
them  to  sing  some  hymns  he  had  previously  selected  from 
those  they  were  accustomed  to  use.  He  then  read  to 
them  from  the  Douay  translation  of  the  Bible,  recited  ap- 
propriate prayers, — such  as  all  could  freely  join  in, — from  a 
Catholic  prayer-book,  preached  them  a sound,  sensible  dis- 
course, and  dismissed  them  with  a blessing.  And  that  con- 
gregation went  away,  wondering  if  such  could  be  the  doc- 
trine and  the  worship  which  they  had  so  often  heard 
denounced  as  “the  doctrine  of  devils.” 

It  was  the  custom  of  Bishop  England  to  wear  his  ordinary 
episcoj^al  robes — soutane,  rotchet,  and  short  purple  cape — 
whenever  he  was  preaching,  whether  in  a public  court-house 
or  in  a Protestant  church.  Many  of  these  latter  buildings 
being  in  his  time  rather  primitive  structures,  and  affording 
little  accommodation  for  robing,  he  was  frequently  com- 
pelled to  perform  his  ecclesiastical  toilet  behind  the  pul- 
pit. This  happened  on  one  occasion,  when  his  fame  was 
at  its  height,  and  people  of  every  creed,  as  well  as  class 
and  condition,  rushed  to  hear  the  famous  preacher. 
One  of  the  robes  worn  by  a bishop,  the  rotchet,  is  a kind 
of  surplice,  usually  made  of  muslin  or  fine  linen,  and 
trimmed  with  lace.  Dr.  England  remained  some  time 
hidden  from  the  view  of  the  audience,  probably  engaged  in 
prayer  ; and  the  expectation  was  somewhat  increased  in 
consequence. 

At  length,  one,  more  impatient  or  more  curious  than  the 
rest,  ventured  on  a peep,  and  saw  the  Bishop  in  his  rotchet, 
and  before  he  had  time  to  put  on  his  cape  ; and,  rather  for- 
getting the  character  of  the  place,  and  rhe  nature  of  the 
occasion,  he  cried  out,  in  a voice  that  rang  throughout  the 
building — “ Boys  ! the  Bishop’s  stripped  to  his  shirt ! — he's 
in  earnest,  I tell  you  ; and  darn  me,  if  he  ain’t  going  to  give 
us  hell  this  time.”  The  Bishop,  who.  Irishman-like,  dearly 
loved  a joke,  and  who  frequently  told  the  story,  ever  with 
unabated  relish,  mounted  the  steps  of  the  pulpit,  and 


TEE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


803 


looked  upon  his  audience  as  calmly  and  with  as  grave  a 
countenance  as  if  these  strange  words  had  never  reached  his 
ears. 

Dr.  England’s  generous  heart  found  in  thecoloi^ed  popula- 
tion of  his  diocese  objects  of  his  most  paternal  care  and  ten- 
derest  solicitude.  To  instruct  them,  chiefly  in  relation  to 
their  moral  and  religious  duties  and  obligations,  was  a 
favorite  work  of  his  zeal  and  charity.  His  own  Mass  on 
Sundays  at  the  Cathedral  was  offered  up  for  them,  and  the 
house  of  God,  on  such  occasions,  was  reserved  for  their 
exclusive  accommodation. 

He  instructed  them  himself  at  Mass  from  the  same  pulpit 
which  was  made  famous  by  his  eloquence.  He  also  had  a 
vesper  service  for  their  benefit.  So  wonderful,  in  truth, 
were  the  good  effects  of  his  ministry  amongst  them,  es- 
pecially in  promoting  their  conscientious  regard  for  duty  and 
fidelity  in  their  peculiar  positions,  that  many  Protestant 
planters  declared  their  willingness  to  give  him  every  facility 
in  ministering  in  person,  or  by  his  clergy,  on  their  planta- 
tions, to  the  exclusion  of  all  other  ministers. 

It  was,  however,  when  Charleston  was  scourged  by  disease 
that  the  charity  and  heroism  of  the  Bishop  were  put  to  the 
test.  “When  that  frightful  scourge,”  \\Tites  W.  G.  Read, 
“ the  yellow  fever,  desolated  Charleston,  he  was  ever  at  his 
post.  This  is  nothing  new  or  strange  to  those  who  know  the 
Catholic  priesthood.  But  when  the  Protestants  of  Charles- 
ton saw  this  apostolic  man  hurrying  under  the  fiery  noons 
of  August  and  September,  or  the  deadly  midnight  dew.  to 
assist  and  console  the  victim  of  the  plague,  usually  of  the 
humblest  and  the  poorest,  they  could  not  but  exclaim,  in 
the  sincerity  of  their  wonder  and  admiration : This  is 
Christian  charity  ! 

“A  near  relative  of  mine,  speaking  of  him  tome,  said: 

‘ I met  him  one  forenoon,  while  the  fever  was  at  the  highest, 
brushing  along  through,  perhaps,  the  hottest  street  in  the 
city.  When  I tell  you  he  was  blazing,  I do  not  exaggerate 
— he  was  literally  blazing ! The  fire  sparkled  from  his  cheeks, 
and  flashed  from  his  eyes  ! I shook  hands  with  him,  and  as 


804 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  j’OHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


we  parted,  I thouglit  to  myself,  my  dear  fellow,  you  will 
soon  have  enough  of  this  !’ 

“ But  his  work  was  not  yet  done.  No ! Season  after 
season,  amid  vice,  squalidity,  and  wretchedness^  where  in- 
temperance, perhaps,  kept  maudlin  watch  by  the  dying  and 
the  dead  ; while  the  sob  of  sorrow  was  broken  by  the  shriek 
of  destitution  and  despair — there  still  stood  Bishop  England, 
the  priest,  the  father,  and  the  friend — to  assure  the  penitent 
— to  alarm  the  sinner — to  pity  and  to  sw-ccov— baptized  again 
and  again — unto  his  holy  function,  in  that  frightful  black 
zomit — the  direct  symptom  of  the  malady!” 

Too  soon,  alas  ! was  the  life  of  the  great  heroic  Bishop  to 
come  to  a close.  Returning  from  Europe  in  a ship  amongst 
whose  steerage  passengers  malignant  dysentery  broke  out, 
this  noble  Christian  minister  labored  incessantly  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  sick.  He  was  at  once  priest,  doctor,  and  nurse, 
and  during  the  voyage  he  scarcely  ever  slept  in  his  cabin ; 
an  occasional  doze  on  a sofa  was  all  that  his  zeal  and  human- 
ity would  allow  him  to  enjoy. 

Exhausted  in  mind  and  body,  and  with  the  seeds  of  the 
fatal  disease  in  his  constitution.  Dr.  England  landed  in 
Philadelphia ; but  instead  of  betaking  himself  to  his  bed, 
and  placing  himself  under  the  care  of  a physician,  he  preached, 
and  lectured,  and  transacted  an  amount  of  business  suited  only 
to  the  most  robust  health. 

In  Baltimore  he  stayed  four  days,  and  preached  five 
times. 

“ When  he  arrived  here,”  says  Mr.  Read,  “ his  throat  was 
raw  with  continued  exertion.  I discovered  the  insidious 
disease  that  was  sapping  his  strength.  I saw  his  constitution 
breaking  up.  He  was  warned,  with  the  solicitude  of  the 
tenderest  affection,  against  continuing  these  destructive 
efforts.  The  weather  was  dreadful.  But  he  felt  it  his  duty 
to  go  on.  He  said  only,  ‘ I hope  I shall  not  drop  at  the  altar 
— if  I do,  bring  me  home.’  He  wished  to  do  the  work  he  was 
sent  to  perform. 

“Exhausted  by  fatigue,  overwhelmed  with  visitors,  he 
was  yet  ready  at  the  last  moment  to  give  an  audience  to  a 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


805 


stranger  who  begged  admission  for  the  solution  of  a single 
doubt ; and  never  did  I listen  to  so  precise,  so  clear,  so  con- 
vincing an  exposition  of  the  transubstantiated  presence  of 
our  Redeemer  in  the  Holy  Eucharist.  His  auditor  was  a 
person  of  intelligence  and  candor,  and  the  Bishop  exhausted, 
for  his  instruction,  the  resources  of  philosophical  objection 
to  the  sacred  tenet ; to  show  how  futile  are  the  cavils  of  man 
in  opposition  to  the  explicit  declaration  of  God.” 

His  death  was  worthy  of  his  grand  life.  Nothing  could 
be  more  in  keeping  with  the  character  of  the  Christian 
Bishop.  The  dying  words  of  this  great  prelate  of  the  Amer- 
ican Church,  addressed  to  his  clergy,  who  were  kneeling 
round  his  bed,  were  noble  and  impressive,  full  of  paternal 
solicitude  for  his  flock,  and  the  most  complete  resignation  to 
the  wdU  of  his  Divine  Master.  He  humbly  solicited  the 
forgiveness  of  his  clergy,  for  whatever  might  at  the  time 
have  seemed  harsh  or  oppressive  in  his  conduct ; but  he 
truly  declared,  that  he  had  acted  from  a sense  of  duty,  and 
in  the  manner  best  adapted  to  the  end  he  had  in  view — their 
good. 

“I  confers,”  said  the  dying  prelate,  “it  has  likewise 
happened,  owing  partly  to  the  perplexities  of  my  position, 
and  chiefly  to  my  own  impetuosity,  that  my  demeanor  has 
not  always  been  as  meek  and  courteous  as  it  ever  should 
have  been ; and  that  you  have  experienced  rebuffs,  w’hen 
you  might  have  anticipated  kindness.  Forgive  me ! Tell 
my  people  that  I love  them — tell  them  how  much  I regret 
that  circumstances  have  kept  us  at  a distance  from  each 
other.  My  duties  and  my  difficulties  have  prevented  me 
from  cultivating  and  strengthening  those  private  ties  which 
ought  to  bind  us  together  ; your  functions  require  a closer 
and  more  constant  intercourse  with  them.  Be  with  them — 
be  of  them — win  them  to  God.  Guide,  govern,  and  instruct 
them,  that  you  may  do  it  with  joy,  and  not  with  grief.” 

In  this,  his  last  address,  he  did  not  forget  his  infant  insti- 
tutions, which  were  never  so  dear  to  his  paternal  heart  as  at 
that  moment,  when  he  appealed  to  his  weeping  clergy  in  their 
behalf  ; and  to  the  Sisters,  who  afterwards  knelt  by  his  bed- 


806 


THE  RIGHT  REV.  JOHN  ENGLAND,  D.D. 


side,  he  bequeathed  lessons  of  wisdom  and  courage.  Almost 
his  last  words  were : “I  had  hoped  to  rise — but  I bow  to  the 
will  of  God,  and  accept  what  He  appoints.”  He  calmly  ex- 
pired on  the  11th  of  April,  1842. 

Bishop  England  was  a fearless  man.  He  quailed  neither 
before  deadly  pestilence,  the  bloody  hand  of  the  assassin, 
or  the  blind  passions  of  the  rabble.  When  the  anti-Catholic 
spirit  seized  on  the  mob  of  Charleston,  and  they  threatened 
to  burn  the  convent,  a gallant  band  of  Irishmen  rallied  to 
its  defense ; and  Dr.  England  himself  cooly  and  carefully 
examined  the  flints  of  their  rifles,  to  be  satisfied  that  there 
would  be  no  missing  fire — no  failure  of  swift  and  summary 
•justice.  But  the  preparation  was  enough.  It  was  a lessor 
the  ruffians  never  forgot. 

* He  has  been  justly  styled  “the  author  of  our  Provincial 
Councils.”  His  far-reaching  intellect  saw  the  imperfect 
organization  o-f  the  American  Church — its  bishops  far  apart, 
and  battling  with  poverty  and  countless  difficulties.  He 
wrote  to  his  brother  prelates,  urging  upon  them  the  neces- 
sity of  assembling  and  taking  counsel  for  united  action.  He 
lived  to  see  this  cherished  desire  of  his  heart  accomplished, 
and  his  solid  and  brilliant  mind  shed  its  rays  of  light  and 
wisdom  on  the  first  Councils  of  Baltimore. 

As  a bishop  of  vast  mental  capacity,  as  a profound  scholar, 
eloquent  preacher,  and  powerful  writer,  the  Catholic  Church 
of  America  has  not  seen  the  superior  of  Dr.  England.  His 
influence,  when  he  could  gain  a candid  hearing,  was  simply 
irresistible,  and  many  who  heard  the  surpassing  thrill  of  his 
eloquence  came  at  once  to  profess  the  ancient  Faith.  His 
controversial  writings  and  sermons  are  masterpieces.  Their 
style  has  been  likened,  by  one  who  often  heard  them, “to  a 
straight  bar  of  polished  steel,  connecting  his  conclusions 
with  his  premises,  with  the  light  of  Heaven  blazing  and 
flashing  about  it.” 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D., 


FIRST  ARCHBISHOP  OF  NEW  YORK.* 


CHAPTER  1. 

A YOUNG  CATHOLIC  HERO. 

Birth — Parents — Education — Kneeling  behind  a hay- 
rich— Emigrates  to  the  United  States — The  future 
Archbishop  toiling  as  a day-laborer — His  college  career  ' 
— Is  ordained — His  labors  in  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord 
— His  patriotism — The  Hughes  and  Breckenridge  con- 
troversy— An  anecdote  about  the  appointment  to  the  see 
of  Cincinnati. 

“The  mysterious  hand  which  governs  the  universe,”  says 
the  profound  Balmes,  “seems  to  hold  an  extraordinary  man 
in  reserve  for  every  great  crisis  of  society.”  It  is  in  this 
light  that  we  view  Archbishop  Hughes  and  his  illustrious 
career. 

John  Hughes  was  born  at  Annaloghan,  near  the  market- 
town  of  Augher,  County  Tyrone,  Ireland,  on  the  24th  of 
June,  1797.  His  parents.  Patrick  Hughes  and  Margaret 
McKenna,  were  in  comfortable  circumstances,  but  especially 
respected  for  their  virtue  and  intelligence.  His  father  was 
better  educated  than  most  men  of  his  class ; while  his  mother 
was  remarkable  for  a refinement  of  character  far  beyond 


> Chief  authorities  used  : Hassard,  “ Life  of  Archbi.shop  Hughes  Clarke.  “ Lives  of  the  De- 
ceased Bishops  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States  Bayley,  “ History  of  the  Catholic 
Church  on  the  Island  of  New  York  Maguire,  “ The  Irish  in  America  Spalding,  “ MisceL 
lanes  “Works”  of  Archbishop  Hughes  ; “ A Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Church  is  tha 
United  Statee." 


«07 


808  the  most  rev.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 

her  position  and  opportunities.  John  was  early  sent  to 
school,  near  his  native  place,  with  a view  to  his  entering  the 
■priesthood.  Here  he  was  well  grounded  in  the  English 
branches,  but  had  not  the  advantage  of  the  ancient  classics. 

A reverse  of  fortune  compelled  his  father,  reluctantly,  to 
withdraw  the  youth  from  school,  and  set  him  to  work  with 
his  brothers  on  one  of  the  farms,  of  which  he  conducted 
two.  In  the  midst  of  his  labors,  John  fondly  and  earnestly 
thought  of  his  true  vocation.  “Many  a time,”  he  after- 
wards told  a friend,  “have  I thrown  down  my  rake  in  the 
meadow,  and  kneeling  behind  a hayrick,  begged  of  God  and 
the  Blessed  Virgin  to  let  me  become  a priest.” 

He  increased  his  oppormnities  for  study  by  reviewing  at 
night  all  that  he  had  learned  at  school.  The  persecutions 
which  Catholics  then  suifered  in  Ireland  were  keenly  felt  by 
Mr.  Hughes  and  his  family,  and  by  none  more  than  by  the 
ardent  John,  who  was  open  in  his  expressions  of  disgust 
and  indignation.  He  warmly  seconded  his  father’s  inclina- 
tion to  emigrate  to  America. 

In  1816.  Mr.  Hughes,  senior,  landed  in  America,  and  set- 
tled at  Chambersburg,  Pa.,  and  there  John,  then  in  his 
twentieth  year,  soon  joined  him,  and  the  rest  of  the  family' 
followed  the  year  after. 

The  future  archbishop  first  found  employment  with  a 
gardener  and  nurseryman  on  the  eastern  shore  of  Maryland, 
and  afterwards  worked  successively  at  Chambersburg  and 
Emmittsburg,  turning  his  hand  to  any  honest  labor  that 
presented  itself.  At  one  time,  he  toiled  as  a day-laborer  on 
a little  stone  bridge  over  a small  stream  on  the  road  that 
leads  from  Emmittsburg  to  Taneytown. 

But  he  never  lost  sight  of  his  vocation  for  the  priesthood, 
and  his  object  in  going  to  Emmittsburg  -was  to  be  on  the  watch 
for  an  opportunity  to  enter  the  College  of  Mount  St.  Mary, 
then  little  more  than  a rude  academy,  under  the  charge  of 
Rev.  Fathers  Dubois  and  Brute,  afterwards  Bishops  of  New 
York  and  Vincennes.  Several  refusals  and  disappointments. 


> The  Eaghes  family  consisted  of  two  sons  and  two  daughters. 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


809 


but  strengthened  the  young  man’s  admirable  resolution.  At 
length,  in  the  fall  of  1819,  he  was  taken  into  the  college,  on 
condition  of  superintending  the  garden  in  return  for  his 
board,  lodging,  and  private  instruction.  WhUe  his  garden 
duties  were  faithfully  discharged,  he  employed  his  hours  of 
study  to  the  best  advantage. 

In  1820,  being  in  his  twenty-third  year,  Mr.  Hughes  was 
received  as  a regular  student  of  the  college.  He  was  untir- 
ing in  his  application.'  With  great  success  he  passed 
through  the  routine  of  teacher,  at  the  same  time  that  he 
rapidly  acquired  Latin,  Greek,  and  mathematics.  Though 
he  became  proficient  in  these,  they  were  never  his  favorite 
studies — he  viewed  them  simply  as  the  means  to  an  end.  It 
was  in  the  congenial  realms  of  theology,  philosophy,  logic, 
and  history,  that  his  soul  seemed  to  expand.  He  also  oc- 
casionally preached,  and  wrote  poetry.  It  is  said,  however, 
that  his  first  sermon  gave  much  brighter  promise  of  a future 
divine,  than  his  maiden  verses  gave  of  a future  poet.  Under 
the  learned  and  saintly  Brute,  who  continued  his  affection- 
ate counsellor  throughout  life,  Mr.  Hughes  made  rapid  pro- 
gress in  learning  and  solid  virtue. 

In  the  fall  of  1826,  he  was  elevated  to  the  priesthood  by 
Bishop  Conwell,  in  St.  Joseph’s  Church,  Philadelphia.  For 
several  years  he  labored  zealously  on  various  missions, 
chiefly  in  the  country.  His  great  prudence  enabled  him  to 
avoid  getting  mixed  up  with  the  lamentable  difficulties  of 
the  times.  He  soon  learned  the  evil  effects  of  lay  trusteeism, 
and  the  lessons  thus  early  impressed  on  his  mind,  gave  him 
that  knowledge  and  experience  which  afterwards  led  him  to 
purge  the  system  in  the  diocese  of  New  York. 

Father  Hughes  soon  became  eminent  as  a pulpit  orator. 
There  was  a something — a magnetism  about  the  noble-looking 


• The  close  application  to  study  which  now  characterized  him,  and  which  he  practised  in  order 
to  repair  that  time  lost  at  ont.door  labor,  would  have  impaired  a less  robust  frame  ; but  those 
labors  in  the  field  and  quarries  had  well-fitted  the  frame  to  sustain  the  studies  and  endure  Ihe 
intellectual  exertions  that  were  to  follow.  During  this  period  his  future  character  began  to  de- 
velop; his  presence  of  mind  and  coolness  on  several  trying  occasions,  and  his  first  controversy 
in  answering  a Fourth  of  July  oration,  in  which  the  Catholic  Church  was  reflected  upon,  were 
Indications  of  his  future  greatness  and  capacity.— 


«10 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D,B. 


young  priest,  and  his  soul-stirring  discourses,  that  attracted 
crowds  to  hear  him.* *  Bishop  Conweir  was  delighted  with 
him.  The  aged  prelate  would  frequently  say:  “ We’U 
make  him  a bishop  someday.”  He  was  also  noted  as  a con- 
troversialist. In  1829,  he  founded  St.  John’s  Orphan  Asy- 
lum, and  about  this  time  he  seems  to  have  been  unofficially 
proposed  at  Rome  as  Bishop  of  Philadephia  ; but  the  choice 
fell  on  Dr.  Kenrick.  The  emancipation  of  the  Catholics  of 
Ireland,  in  1829,  was  hailed  with  joy  by  thousands  in  America, 
but  by  none  more  than  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hughes.  Through 
life  he  was  devotedly  attached  to  his  native  isle,  whose 
wrongs  he  saw  and  deeply  felt  in  his  youth.  He  was  an 
enthusiastic  admirer  of  Daniel  O’Connell. 

The  following  extract  from  a private  letter  gives  us  an  in- 
sight into  one  of  the  secrets  of  that  success  which  aj)peared 
to  follow  the  future  Archbishop  of  New  York,  like  his 
shadow.  It  was  addressed  to  the  newly-appointed  Bishop 
Kenrick,  by  his  pupil,  young  M.  J Spalding,’  then  on  his 
way  to  the  Propaganda,  and  is  dated  May,  1830:  “I  have 
had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  with  Rev.  Mr.  Hughes,  I 
handed  him  your  letter,  to  which  I am  indebted  for  the  kind 
manner  in  which  he  received  me.  He  is  a gentleman  of  the 
most  polite  and  engaging  manners,  blending  the  amiable 
modesty  and  reserve  of  the  priest  with  the  easy  deportment 
of  the  man  of  the  world.  He  has,  I think,  a bright  future 
before  him.” 

In  1832,  the  celebrated  Hughes  and  Breckenridge  contro- 
versy occurred.  The  Rev.  John  Breckenridge  was  a Pres- 
byterian minister,  and  the  ablest  champion  of  his  sect  in 
this  country.  Through  the  columns  of  The  Christian  Ad- 
vocate, he  made  a series  of  bold  attacks  on  the  Catholic 
Church,  and  even  challenged  priests  or  bishops  to  meet  him 
“ on  the  whole  field  of  controve;  sy  between  Roman  Catho- 
lics and  Protestants.”  For  a time  no  attention  was  paid 

* The  pulpits  of  the  eloquent  orators.  Dr.  Hurley  and  Father  Harold,  were  deserted  by  bun- 
ireds  who  went  to  hear  Mr.  Hughes. — Clarke. 

» Of  Philadelphia. 

• Afterwards  Archbishop  of  Baltimore  ; see  his  “ Life,”  by  his  eminent  nephew,  Right  Rev.  J. 
L.  Spalding,  Bishop  of  Peoria. 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


811 


to  Mr.  Breckenridge’s  taunting  challenge  ; but,  on  a certain 
pressing  occasion,  one  of  Father  Hughes’  own  flock  pledged 
himself  that  Ms  pastor  would  meet  the  great  champion 
of  the  Reformation. 

'Hie  gentleman  informed  the  zealous  young  priest  of  his 
promise.  Since  you  rely  upon  me,’’’’  was  the  reply,  “7 
will  not  fail  you.'"  And  he  did  not  fail.  Minister  Brecken- 
ridge,  we  believe,  never  challenged  another  Catholic  priest. 
The  event  gave  Father  Hughes  an  enviable  fame.  It  at 
once  placed  him  in  the  front  rank,  as  a man  of  bold,  sharp, 
and  powerful  intellect,  and  unsurpassed  skill  in  debate 

In  every  subsequent  effort  of  his  life,  he  sustained  his  pre- 
eminent reputation.  But  in  this — a§,  indeed,  in  all  his  other 
controversies — he  was  acting  on  the  defensive,  and  was  drawn 
into  these  contests,  by  the  unprovoked  attacks  wdiich  it  was 
too  much  the  custom  of  the  anti-Catholic  bigots  of  that  day 
to  make  against  the  Church.  When  once  embarked  in  the 
discussion,  however,  he  did  not  remain  on  the  defensive ; 
but,  like  an  able  general,  he  availed  himself  of  every  point 
of  weakness  in  his  adversaries,  and  of  every  advantage  which 
he  gained  over  them,  to  carry  war  into  the  enemy’s  country. 
That  these  malignant  and  unchristian  assaults  upon  the 
Catholic  religion  have,  in  a great  measure,  ceased  in  our 
day,  is  chiefly  owing  to  the  bold  resistance,  and  the  triumph- 
ant logic,  learning,  and  eloquence  of  those  two  heroic  men  and 
ill  istrious  defenders  of  the  Faith — John  England,  and  John 
Hughes. 

It  was  likewise  at  this  period  that  Father  Hughes  estab- 
lished, and  for  a time  edited  the  Catholic  Herald.,  and  built 
St.  John’s  Church,  then  the  favorite,  and  by  far  the  most 
elegant  Catholic  place  of  worship  in  the  city  of  Philadel- 
phia. 

Father  Hughes  was  suggested  for  the  vacant  bishopric  of 
Cincinnati,  in  1833,  and  it  was  only  by  a curious  misunder- 
standing at  Rome  that  he  was  not  api^ointed. 

As  suitable  candidates  for  this  see,  the  Rev.  Messrs. 
Hughes  and  Purcell  were  nominated  on  the  same  list.  So 
«qual  were  their  claims,  that  the  authorities  at  Rome  were  at 


812 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


a loss  to  decide  as  to  wliicli  should  be  appointed.  The  cele- 
brated Bishop  England  was  there  then.  The  Cardinal  Pre- 
fect of  the  Propaganda,  meeting  him  one  day,  asked  him  if 
he  could  mention  some  particular,  however  trifling,  to  turn 
the  scales  in  favor  of  one  or  the  other  nominee.  After  a 
moment’s  thought.  Dr.  England  replied:  “There’s  one 
point,  your  Eminence.  Mr.  Hughes  is  emphatically  a self- 
made  man,  and,  perhaps,  on  that  account,  more  acceptable  to 
the  people  of  a Western  diocese  than  Mr.  Purcell.” 
“Ah  ! ” said  the  Cardinal,  “ I think  that  will  do.” 

Meeting  Dr.  England  the  next  day,  he  said : “ Well, 
Bishop,  the  question  is  settled.  As  soon  as  I told  the  Car- 
dinals what  you  saidabo^ut  Mr.  Purcell  ’5  being  a self-made 
man,  they  unanimously  agreed  upon  him,  and  the  nomina- 
tion will  at  once  be  presented  to  His  Holiness  for  approval.” 

“ I was  about  to  explain  the  mistake,”  said  Bishop  Eng- 
land afterwards  to  a friend,  “ but  I reflected  that  it  was  no 
doubt  the  work  of  the  spirit  of  God,  and  was  silent.”  An- 
other fleld  was  thus  reserved  fcr  Father  Hughes — a field  in 
every  way  more  suited  to  his  ability  and  character. 


CHAPTER  IL 


THE  YOUNG  BISHOP  OF  NEW  YORK. 

Dr.  Hughes  becomes  Bishop  of  Hew  Yorlc — Scene  at  his 
consecration — Stormy  times — Lay-trusteeism — Bishop 
Hughes  sails  for  Europe — Establishment  of  St.  John  s 
College.,  at  Fordham — Sketch  of  the  college  {note) — The 
public  school  system — Battle  of  Bishop  Hughes — His 
great  influence  over  his  flock. 

With  long  experience,  vast  zeal,  and  in  the  full  vigor  of 
manhood.  Father  Hughes  was  well  prepared  for  the  work  of 
his  life,  and  a wide  field  was  ready  for  the  dauntless  toiler. 
In  January,  1838,  he  was  consecrated  coadjutor  to  his  old 
master.  Bishop  Dubois,  of  New  York.  The  ceremony  took  - 
place  in  St.  Patrick’s  Cathedral,  New  York  city;  and  the  im- 
pressive scene  is  thus  described  by  illustrious  lips:  — 

“ I remember,”  said  Cardinal  McCloskey,  “ how  all  eyes 
were  fixed,  how  all  eyes  w^ere  strained  to  get  a glimpse  at 
the  newly-consecrated  Bishop;  and  as  they  saw  that  digni- 
fied and  manly  countenance,  as  they  beheld  those  features 
beaming  with  the  light  of  intellect,  bearing  upon  them  the 
impress  of  that  force  of  character,  which  peculiarly  marked 
him  throughout  his  life,  that  firmness  of  resolution,  that 
unalterable  and  unbending  will,  and  yet  blending  at  the 
same  time  that  great  benignity  and  suavity  of  expression — 
when  they  marked  the  quiet  composure  and  self-possession  of 
every  look  and  every  gesture  of  his  whole  gait  and  demeanor 
— all  hearts  were  drawn  and  w'armed  towards  him.  Every 
pulse  within  that  vast  assembly,  both  of  clergy  and  laity,  was 
quickened  with  a higher  sense  of  courage  and  of  hope. 
Every  breast  was  filled  with  joy,  and,  as  it  were,  with  a new 
and  younger  might.” 

813 


814 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


About  two  weeks  after  the  consecration  of  Dr.  Hughes, 
the  good  old  Bishop  Dubois  was  stricken  with  paralysis,  and 
though  he  partially  recovered,  he  never  afterwards  took  a 
very  active  part  in  the  affairs  of  the  diocese.  The  burden 
thus  fell  upon  younger  shoulders.* 

The  times  were  stormy.  Catholics  were  sorely  in  need  of  a 
leading  mind — a man  to  battle  for  their  rights.  Such 
a man  was  Bishop  Hughes.  He  was  doubtless  an  instrument 
of  Heaven,  raised  up  for  the  good  of  the  Church  in  America. 
He  grappled  at  once  with  the  evils  which  beset  his  diocese. 
With  a giant  grasp  he  modified  the  lay-trustee  system  ; ’ other 
obstacles  and  abuses  faded  away  at  his  touch,  or  withered  at 
his  frown.  To  his  people  he  was  a tower  of  strength  ; and 
for  the  first  time,  the  Catholic  Church  in  New  York  soon 
assumed  an  imposing  aspect. 

We  can  merely  glance  at  his  herculean  labors.  We  have 
little  space  for  detail.  And  yet  we  cannot  pass  without  a 
word  in  regard  to  lay-trusteeism  in  its  legal  aspect.  The 
pernicious  system  had  grown  up  under  the  law  of  1813,’ 
which  authorized  the  male  members  of  full  age,  in  any  con- 
gregation, other  than  Episcopal  and  Reformed  Protestant 
Dutch  congregations,  to  elect  from  three  to  nine  trustees,  to 
hold  the  title,  and  manage  the  church  jjroperty.  This  law 
did  not  prohibit  ecclesiastics  owning,  as  individuals,  pro- 
perty used  for  Divine  service. 

During  the  wild  ascendency,  however,  of  Knownothingism, 
a law  was  passed  through  the  Legislature  of  New  York,  by 
which  it  was  provided  that  all  property  held  by  any  person 
in  any  ecclesiastical  oflBce  or  orders  should,  on  his  death, 
become  vested  in  the  occupants  or  congregation  using  it,  if 


> The  saintly  Bishop  Dubois  died  in  1842. 

•The  following  anecdote  illustrates  the  audacious  lengths  to  which  lay-trusteeism  could 
carry  its  insolence.  A committee  of  trustees  once  waited  upon  Bishop  Dubois,  and  in  terms  of 
respect,  curiously  inconsistent  with  the  object  of  their  mission,  they  informed  liim  that  they 
could  not  conscientiously  vote  him  his  salary,  unless  he  complied  with  their  wishes,  and,  on  the 
Protestant  principle,  gave  them  such  clergymen  as  were  acceptable  to  them!  But  they  little  knew 
the  spirit  of  the  aged  prelate,  who  was  not  the  least  dismayed  by  such  cool  impertinence. 

“ Gentlemen,”  he  replied,  “ you  may  vote  me  a salary  or  not.  I need  little.  I can  live  in  a 
basement  or  a garret;  but  whether  I come  up  from  my  basement,  or  down  from  my  garret,  I 
shall  still  be  your  Bishopl” 

• Revised  L .ati  tes  if  f®ew  Vork,  606. 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGBEti,  D.D. 


815 


tliey  were  incorporated,  or  would  incorporate,  and  in  default, 
ill  the  people  of  the  State ; and  no  deed  of  property  to 
be  used  for  Divine  worship  was  allowed  to  have  any  legal 
force  or  validity,  unless  made  to  a corporation. 

The  Catholics  of  New  York  are  chiefly  indebted  to  Dr. 
Hughes,  and  to  his  Eminence  Cardinal  McCloskey — then 
Bishop  of  Albany — for  the  more  just  and  reasonable  pro- 
visions of  the  present  law,  which,  in  providing  for  the  in- 
corporation of  Catholic  Churches,  constitutes  the  bishop, 
vicar-general,  pastor,  and  two  laymen  selected  hy  them^  as 
the  trustees  of  the  church  property.’ 

In  the  faU  of  1839,  Dr.  Hughes  sailed  to  Europe  for  the 
purpose  of  obtaining  the  necessary  means  to  enable  him  to 
carry  out  his  plans  for  the  good  of  religion  and  education. 
It  was  his  first  visit  to  the  Old  "World.  He  was  received  by 
pope,  and  king,  and  people,  in  the  various  countries  through 
which  he  passed,  with  every  mark  of  respect  and  kindness. 

He  was  delighted  with  Rome,  where  he  spent  three 
months,  and  received  valuable  presents  from  the  Sovereign 
Pontiff;  At  Vienna  he  obtained  a liberal  donation  from  the 
Leopoldine  Society  in  aid  of  his  proposed  college  and 
seminary.  While  at  Paris  he  secured  the  services  of  a 
number  of  Ladies  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  to  found  a school 
in  New  York  city.  He  also  visited  Ireland,  made  the 
personal  acquaintance  of  Daniel  O'Connell,  and  with 
warm,  sympathetic  heart,  he  beheld  the  struggle  of  his 
countrymen  for  their  rights  and  liberties.  After  an  ab- 
sence of  nine  months,  he  reached  his  episcopal  city  in  the 
summer  of  1840. 

As  the  good,  untiring  friend  of  Catholic  education,  one  of 
Bishop  Hughes’  first  steps,  after  his  return  from  Europe, 
was  the  establishment  of  St.  John’s  College,  at  Fordham,  for 
which  object  he  purchased  the  beautiful  Rose  Hill  estate 
The  estate  cost  $30,000,  and  the  expense  of  fitting  up  the 
buildings  for  the  reception  of  students  was  $10,000.  The 
institution,  thus  founded  by  an  illustrious  hand,  grew  and 


■ Clarke. 


816 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


flourished,  and  has  since  become  the  honored  Alma  Mater 
of  hundreds  of  Catholics,  lay  and  clerical. ' 


St.  John's  College,  Fordham,  New  York  city,  is  the  oldest,  and,  in  many  respects,  the  most 
famous  Catholic  seat  of  learning  in  the  Middle  States.  It  was  founded  by  Archbishop  Hughes 
in  1841  , and  was  opened  in  the  summer  of  that  year,  under  the  direction  of  the  secular  clergy. 
At  first  It  was  named  “ Rose  Hill  College,”  after  the  beautiful  estate  on  which  it  is  built. 

This  Institution  was  committed  to  the  charge  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers  in  1845  ; and  in  ths 
spring  of  the  following  year  it  was  raised  by  the  Legislature  to  the  rank  of  a university.  It  has 
within  its  gift  each  and  every  university  degree.  Among  the  presidents  of  St.  John's  were  the 
following  distinguished  men  : His  Eminence  Cardinal  McCloskey,  the  first  President ; Ambrose 
Manahan,  D.D.,  author  of  the  “Triumph  of  Catholicity;”  the  late  Archbishop  Bayley,  of 
Baltimore  ; and  the  eloquent  Father  John  Larkin,  S.  J.,  a fellow-studetit  of  Wiseman  andLin- 
gard,  and  the  preceptor  of  the  present  honored  President.  The  learned  and  venerable  Father  A. 
J.  Thebaud,  S.  J.,  author  of  “ The  Irish  Race,”  “ (Jentilism  ” and  “ The  Church  and  the  Gentils 
World,”  was  the  first  President  of  the  College  after  it  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Jesuit 
Fathers. 

The  College  possesses  a valuable  library  of  20,000  volumes,  including  a large  numbe.r  of  rare 
works  on  Oriental  literature  ; a very  interesting  museum,  which,  among  other  collections,  em- 
braces a mlneralogical  cabinet  of  about  2,000  specimens  ; a well-arranged  geological  collection  of 
6,000  specimens  ; and  a garden  and  green-house,  which  afford  many  advantages  to  the  botanical 
student. 

The  total  number  of  graduates  up  to  1875,  was  381—345  in  course,  and  36  honorary.  Of  the  345 
graduates  in  course,  219  follow  professional  careers,  and  92  embraced  the  clerical  state.  Bishop 
Rosecrans,  of  Columbus,  Ohio,  is  a graduate  of  1847.  Among  those  who  received  the  honorary 
degree  of  LL.D.  from  St.  John’s  College  are  0.  A.  Brownson,  the  distinguished  Catholic  WTlter 
and  philosopher;  E B.  O’Callaghan,  M.  D.,  the  eminent  historian;  Gen.  Thomas  Francis 
Meagher ; Gen.  Martin  T.  McMahon ; Hon.  Richard  O’Gorman  ; Hon.  John  McKeon  ; Senator 
Francis  Keman  ; John  Savage,  the  poet;  and  J.  G.  Shea,  the  historian. 

The  majority  of  the  old  clergy  of  the  Archdiocese  of  New  York  were  educated  at  St.  John’s 
by  the  Jesuit  Fathers.  Among  the  professors  at  that  time  were  men  of  more  than  marked  excel- 
lence, who  taught  theology  from  their  own  manuscripts.  Foremost  among  them  was  the  lamented 
Father  Maldonado,  S.  J.,  ex-Rector  of  the  University  of  Salamanca.  This  profound  scholar  died 
some  years  ago  at  Woodstock,  when  on  the  eve  of  retiring  from  his  office  of  professor,  in  order 
to  devote  the  remainder  of  his  days  to  the  work  of  preparing  his  magnificent  course  of  theology 
for  the  press. 

There  are  many  interesting  items  connected  with  the  beautiful  grounds  of  this  institution. 
The  Bronx  River  is  historic.  The  College  infirmary  was  for  one  night  the  headquarters  of 
Washington.  The  grand  old’gnarled  willow-tree  before  the  college  entrance  is  famous,  tradition 
asserting  that  the  Father  of  his  Country,  during  the  Revolutionary  war,  tied  his  horse  to  it.  In 
fact,  it  is.  veritable  “ Centennial  ” ground.  The  stately  elms  under  which  the  annual  commence- 
ments take  place  are  more  than  a century  old.  They  are  offshoots  from  the  estate  of  Holyrood, 
belonging  to  the  Scottish  family  of  the  Sterlings. 

Among  the  distinguished  professors  at  John’s,  not  already  named,  were  Rev.  L.  Jouin,  S.J., 
an  eminent  linguist  and  scientist,  and  author  of  a “ Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy”  in  Latin  ; 
Bev.  J.  Moylan,  S.J.,  controversial  lecturer  at  the  Gesu,  Montreal ; Rev.  Joseph  Shea,  S.J.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Philosophy  at  the  St.  Francis  Xavier  College,  New  York  ; Right  Rev.  F.  P.  McFarland, 
late  Bishop  of  Hartford  ; and  Right  Rev.  Dr.  Conroy,  Bishop  of  Albany.  The  last  two  wer* 
professors  in  the  early  days  of  the  College. 

When  ths  late  civil  war  broke  out,  four  priests,  at  the  call  of  Archbishop  Hughes,  left  St. 
John’s  College  to  serve  as  regimental  chaplains.  They  were  Bev.  Fathers  O’Reilly.  Tissot, 
Onillet,  and  Nash,  and  thousands  of  brave  officers  and  soldiers,  veterans  of  the  army,  will  recall 
the  devotedness  and  heroism  of  these  Jesuit  Fathers. 

The  President  of  the  College,  Very  Rev.  Frederick  William  Gockeln,  S.J.,  a venerable  man, 
an  accomplished  scholar,  and  an  eminent  educator,  was  born  in  Catholic  Westphali.u.  Prussia. 
He  entered  the  Society  of  Jeans  in  his  twentieth  year,  and  made  his  studies  chiefly  in  C.mada 
and  France.  Ordained  in  the  latter  country,  he  returned  to  the  United  States,  and  fc-  many 


.\,0>T  REV.  JOHN  HUGIIE.S. 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


811 


The  year  1841  was  made  famous  in  the  history  of  the 
Catholic  Church  in  New  York  by  the  agitation  of  the 
“ School  Question,”  as  it  was  called.  The  agitation  grew 
fierce,  and  attracted  the  attention  of  the  country  at  large. 

The  system  of  education  against  which  the  Catholics  pro- 
tested was  more  than  insidiously  dangerous— it  was  actively 
aggressive  and  not  merely  were  the  books  replete  with  sneer 
and  libel  against  that  Church  which  all  sects  usually  delight 
in  assailing,  but  the  teachers,  by  their  explanations,  imparted 
new  force  to  the  lie,  and  additional  authority  to  the  calumny. 
Respectful  remonstrances  were  met  either  with  calm  disre- 
gard or  insolent  rebuff. 

Politicians  were  so  confident  of  having  the  Irish  vote,  no  mat- 
ter how  they  themselves  acted,  that  they  supposed  they  might 
continue  with  impunity  to  go  in  the  very  teeth  of  their  sup- 
porters, and  systematically  resist  their  just  claims  for  redress. 
But  Bishop  Hughes  read  them  a salutary  lesson,  the  moral  ol 
which  it  was  difficult  to  forget.  With  matchless  ability  he 
fought  the  Catholic  side  in  the  Common  Council’  against  all 
comers,  representing  every  hostile  interest ; and  when  jus- 
tice was  denied  there  and  in  the  Legislature,  he  resorted  to  a 
course  of  policy  which  greatly  disturbed  the  minds  of  the 
timid,  and  the  sticklers  for  peace  at  any  price,  but  which 
was  followed  by  instantaneous  success. 

Holding  his  flock  well  in  hand,  addressing  them  constantly 
In  language  that,  while  it  convinced  their  j udgment,  roused 


fe&Ti  filled  the  responsible  charges  of  professor,  prefect  of  studies,  and  Txe-president  in  various 
aolleges  of  the  Society.  He  was  elected  to  his  present  position  in  1874.  Though  but  a third  of 
i century  in  existence,  St.  John's  College  already  wears  the  honors  of  age.  Esto  perpetua.- 
Biftonj  of  the  Catholic  Chvrch  in  the  United  States. 

* Previous  to  1841  the  public  instruction  had  been  in  the  hands  of  a close  corporation,  under 
(he  title  of  the  Public  School  Society,  which  administered  and  distributed,  according  to  its  own 
good  pleasure,  the  funds  provided  for  the  city  for  the  purpose  of  education.  The  books  used  in 
these  schools  abounded  with  the  usual  stereotyped  falsehoods  against  the  Catholic  religion,  and 
the  most  vexatious  and  open  system  of  proseljnism  was  carried  on  in  them.  The  evil  finally  be- 
came so  great  that  no  alternative  was  left  for  Catholic  parents  but  either  to  prevent  their  children 
from  attending  the  schools  at  all,  or  to  cause  an  entire  change  in  the  system;  under  the  advice 
ind  active  leadership  of  the  Bishop,  a systematic  attempt  was  made  to  call  the  attention  of  the 
community  and  public  authorities  to  the  subject,  and  after  a severe  contest  it  resulted  in  the 
•stablishment  of  the  present  common  school  system.— Bayfey. 

A great  eril  was  thus  reduced  to  one  of  lesser  dimensions. 

’ Against  such  men  as  Rev.  Drs.  Bond.  Spring,  and  many  others,  full  of  eloquence  and  refinea 
jaalignity. 


818 


TEE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUOHES,  D.D. 


their  religious  enthusiasm,  he  advised  them  to  disregard  all 
political  ties,  and  vote  only  for  those  who  were  the  friends 
of  the  new  school  system, — which,  it  may  be  remarked,  was 
pagan  at  best, — and  the  opponents  of  the  old  system,  w'hich, 
as  we  have  said,  was  actively  aggi’essive.  The  Bishop  thus 
put  the  case  to  his  flock  : 

“The  question  to  be  decided  is  not  the  strength  of  party, 
or  the  emolument  and  patronage  of  otlice,  but  a question 
between  the  helpless  and  ill-used  children,  and  the  Public 

School  Society An  issue  is  made  up  between 

you  and  a large  portion  of  the  community  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  monopoly  which  instils  the  dangerous  principles  to 
which  I have  before  alluded,  on  the  other.  The  question 
lies  between  the  two  parties,  and  you  are  the  Judges  ; if  you 
desert  the  cause,  what  can  you  expect  from  strangers  ? . . . 
I have  been  given  to  understand  that  three  out  of  four  can- 
didates presented  to  your  suffrages  are  pledged  to  oppose 
your  claims.  They  may,  perhaps,  triumph  ; but  all  T ask  is, 
that  they  shall  not  triumph  by  the  sinful  aid  of  any  individ- 
ual who  cherishes  a feeling  in  common  with  those  children. 
I wish  you,  therefore,  to  look  well  to  your  candidates  ; and 
if  they  are  disposed  to  make  Infidels  or  Protestants  of  your 
children,  let  <^hem  receive  no  vote  of  yours.” 

The  advice  thus  given  to  them  by  their  Bishop  was  as  con- 
sistent with  common  sense  as  with  decent  pride.  But  some- 
thing more  was  required  to  be  done,  and  that  was  done. 
With  a few  exceptions,  the  candidates  of  all  parties  in  the 
field  were  pledged  to  oppose  the  claims  of  the  Catholics. 
An  independent  ticket  for  members  of  the  Senate  and 
Assembly  was  therefore  suggested  and  proposed,  and  this 
was  adopted  at  a meeting  in  Carroll  Hall,  wuth  an  en- 
thusiasm which  was  owing  even  more  to  the  pluck  than  to 
the  appeals  of  the  Bishop 

Having,  bv  a speech  of  singular  power,  put  the  whole 
case  before  his  immense  nndience,  he  worked  them  up  to  a 
state  of  extraordinary  excitement,  with  the  true  Demosthenic 
art,  putting  to  them  a series  (u  stinging  queries,  touching, 
as  it  were,  the  very  life  of  their  honor.  “Will  you  stand 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


819 


by  the  rights  of  your  offspring,  who  have  so  long  suffered 
under  the  operation  of  this  injurious  system  ?”  “ Will  you 

adhere  to  the  nominations  made?”  “Will  you  be  united  ?” 
“ Will  none  of  you  shrink  ?” 

And  he  concluded  : “I  ask,  then,  once  for  all,  will  this 
meeting  pledge  its  honor,  as  the  representative  of  that  op- 
pressed portion  of  the  community  for  whom  I have  so  often 
pleaded,  here  as  elsewhere — will  it  pledge  its  honor,  that 
it  will  stand  by  these  candidates,  whose  names  have  been 
read,  and  that  no  man  composing  this  vast  audience  will 
ever  vote  for  any  one  pledged  to  oppose  our  just  claims,  and 
incontrovertible  rights?” 

The  promise,  made  with  a display  of  feeling  almost 
amounting  to  frenzy,  was  fully  redeemed  ; and  2,200  votes 
recorded  for  the  candidates  nominated  only  four  days  be- 
fore, convinced  the  politicans,  whose  promises  hitherto  had 
been,  as  the  Bishop  said,  as  large  “as  their  performances 
had  been  lean,”  that  there  was  danger  in  the  Catholics — 
that,  in  fact,  they  were  no  longer  to  be  played  with  or  des- 
pised. Notwithstanding  the  pledges  to  the  contrary',  the 
new  system — that  of  the  common  schools — was  carried  in 
the  Assembly  by  a majority  of  sixty-five  to  sixteen  ; and 
the  Senate,  apprehending  that  a similar  attempt  would  be 
made  at  an  approaching  election  for  the  mayoralty,  as  that 
which  had  been  made  in  the  elections  of  candidates  for  the 
Senate  and  the  Assembly,  passed  the  measure. 

Fiercely  assailed  by  his  opponents,  bitterly  denounced  by 
alarmed  and  indignant  politicans,  reviled  in  every  imagin- 
able manner  by  controversialists  of  the  pulpit  and  the  press, 
even  turned  upon  by  the  faint-hearted  of  his  own  commun- 
ion— that  decorous  and  cringing  class,  to  whom  anything 
like  vigor,  or  a departure  from  rigid  rule,  is  sure  to  cause 
a shudder  of  the  nerves — the  Bishop  of  New  York  became, 
at  once,  one  of  the  best-abused,  as  well  as  one  of  the  most 
popular  men  of  the  day. 

His  influence  over  the  Irish  portion  of  his  flock  was  un- 
bounded. This  flock  was  rapidly  increasing  through  immi- 
gration, which  was  setting  strongly  in  from  the  old  country. 


820  the  most  rev.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D., 

then,  for  its  size,  one  of  the  most  populous  countries  of 
Europe.  Bishop  Hughes  was  just  the  man  to  acquire  influ- 
ence over  an  Irish  congregation.  That  he  himself  was  an 
Irishman,  was,  of  course,  no  little  in  his  favor.  But  he  was 
eminently  qualified  to  gratify  the  pride  of  a people  who 
found  in  him  a fearless,  a powerful,  and  a successful  cham- 
pion—one  who  was  afraid  of  no  man,  and  who  was  ready,  at 
any  moment,  not  only  to  grapple  with  and  overthrow  the  most 
formidable  opponent,  but  to  encounter  any  odds,  and  fight 
under  every  disadvantage.  In  his  speeches  and  letters' 
the  reader  will  behold  abundant  evidence  of  his  boldness 
in  attack,  his  skill  in  defence,  and  his  severity  in  dealing 
with  an  enemy,  especially  one  to  whom  no  quarter  should  be 
given. 

When  the  heroic  Bishop  struck,  it  was  with  no  gentle  or 
faltering  hand,  nor  was  his  weapon  a lath  or  a blunted  sword. 
He  struck  with  the  strength  of  a giant,  and  the  weapon  he 
wielded  was  bright  and  trenchant,  and  never  failed  to  pierce 
the  armour  of  his  closest-mailed  foe.  With  the  ablest  and 
most  practised  writers  of  the  public  press,  the  most  accom- 
plished advocates  of  the  bar,  the  subtlest  controversialists. 
Bishop  Hughes  had  many  a fair  tilt  in  the  face  of  an  appre- 
oiative  public  ; and  none  of  those  with  whom  he  was  com- 
pelled to  come  into  conflict,  whether  with  tongue  or  pen, 
speech  or  letter,  that  did  not  acknowledge,  or  was  not 
obliged  to  admit,  the  power  of  his  mind,  the  force  of  his 
reasoning,  his  happiness  of  illustration,  and  his  thorough 
mastery  of  the  English  language. 


> See  hifl  “Works,” 8 vols.,  edited  by  Lawrence  Kehoe. 


CHAPTER  III. 


BATTLING  WITH  KN0WN0THINGI8M. 

tHends  in  Philadelphia — Sympathy  in  New  York — The 
Catholics — Dr.  Hughes  and  the  Mayor — The  Bishop's 
memorable  letter  to  Mayor  Harper — Immense  debt  of 
the  churches — Consecration  of  Dr.  McCloskey — Divis- 
ion of  the  diocese — Catholic  chaplains  in  the  army — 
The  Sisters  of  Charity — Preaching  before  Congress — 
Progress  of  Catholic  Education — Patriotisnn. 

The  anti- Catholic  spirit  which  agitated  the  country  from 
1834  to  1844,  culminated  in  making  Philadelphia  the  dis- 
graceful scene  of  riot,  mob-rule,  and  church-burning. 
Hounded  on  by  the  pulpit  yellings  of  fanatical  ministers,  an 
army  of  rufiians  did  the  work  of  destruction,  while  the  city 
authorities  looked  on,  and,  like  Pontius  Pilate,  quietly 
washed  their  hands  of  the  whole  affair ! At  2 o’  clock  p.  m. 
on  the  8th  of  May,  1844,  St.  Michael’s  Church  was  in  flames ! 
At  4 o’clock  the  house  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity  was  con- 
sumed ! At  six  the  same  evening,  St.  Augustine’s  Church 
was  fired,  and,  along  with  the  rectory,  burned ! The  pre- 
cious library  of  the  Augustinians  was  plundered,  the  books 
piled  up,  and  committed  to  the  flames ! All  this  in  one 
afternoon ! 

'■'■Nativismf  writes  the  Rev.  Mr.  Goodman,  an  Episcopal 
minister;  “has  not  existed  five  months,  and  in  that  time 
what  has  been  seen  ? Two  Catholic  churches  burned,  one 
twice  fired  and  desecrated,  a Catholic  seminary  and  retreat 
consumed  by  the  torch  of  an  incendiary  mob,  two  rectories 
and  a most  valuable  library  destroyed,  forty  dwellings  in 
ruins,  about  forty  human  lives  sacrificed,  and  sixty  of  our 
fellow- citizens  wounded  ; riot,  and  rebellion,  and  treason 

821 


822 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


rampant  on  two  occasions  in  our  midst ; the  laws  boldly 
set  at  defiance,  and  peace  and  order  prostrated  by  ruflBan 
violence !” 

Flushed  with  their  unholy  triumphs  of  church-burning, 
convent- wrecking,  and  house-pillaging,  a chosen  band  of 
the  Philadelphia  rioters  were  to  be  welcomed  with  a public 
procession  by  their  sympathizers  of  New  York ; but  the 
stern  attitude  of  the  Catholics,  obedient  to  the  voice  and 
amenable  to  the  authority  of  their  great  Bishop,  dismayed 
the  cowardly  portion  of  their  enemies,  and  taught  even  the 
boldest  that  discretion  was  the  better  part  of  valor. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  that  the  Catholics  of  New  York 
had  taken  a firm  stand  against  the  frenzy  of  the  “No- 
Popery”  faction.  Shortly  after  the  burning  of  the  convent 
at  Boston,  there  was  an  attempt  made  to  destroy  St. 
Patrick’s  Cathedral.  But  the  church  was  put  in  a state  of 
defence ; the  streets  leading  to  it  were  torn  up,  and  every 
window  was  to  be  a point  whence  missiles  could  be  thrown 
on  the  advancing  horde  of  sacrilegious  wretches  ; while  the 
wall  of  the  churchyard,  rudely  constructed,  bristled  with 
the  muskets  of  those  ready  for  the  last  struggle  for  the  altar 
of  their  Grod  and  the  graves  of  those  they  loved.  So  fearful 
a preparation,  unknown  to  the  enemies  of  religion,  came 
upon  them  like  a thunder-  clap,  when  their  van  had  nearly 
reached  the  street  leading  to  the  Cathedral ; they  fled  in  all 
directions  in  dismay. 

A meeting  of  the  “Native  Americans"  of  New  York  was 
called  in  the  City  Hall  Park,  to  give  a suitable  reception  to 
their  brethern  from  Philadelphia.  The  time  for  action  had 
thus  arrived.  Bishop  Hughes  had  made  it  known  through 
the  columns  of  the  Freeman' s Journal.,  then  under  his  en- 
tire control,  that  the  scenes  of  Philadelphia  should  not  be 
renewed  with  impunity  in  New  York;  and  he  was  known  to 
have  said — in  reply  to  a priest  who,  having  escaped  from 
Philadelphia,  advised  him  to  publish  an  address,  urging  the 
Catholics  to  keep  the  peace— “ If  a single  Catholic  clnivh 
were  burned  in  New  York,  the  city  would  become  a second 
Moscow.” 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


823 


There  was  no  mistaking  his  spirit,  and  that  of  his  flock — 
excepting,  of  course,  the  “good,  cautious  souls  who,”  as  the 
Bishop  wrote,  “ believe  in  stealing  through  the  world  more 
submissively  than  suits  a freeman.”  The  churches  were 
guarded  by  a sufficient  force  of  men,  resolved  to  die  in  their 
defence,  but  also  resolved  to  make  their  assailants  feel  the 
weight  of  their  vengeance.  By  an  extra  issue  of  the  Free- 
man' s Journal  the  Bishop  warned  the  Irish  to  keep  away  from 
all  public  meetings,  especially  that  to  be  held  in  the  Park 
He  then  called  upon  the  Mayor,*  and  advised  him  to  prevent 
the  proposed  demonstration. 

“Are  you  afraid,”  asked  the  Mayor,  “that  some  of  your 
churches  will  be  burned  ?” 

“Xo,  sir;  but  I am  afraid  that  .some  of  yours  will  be 
burned.  We  can  protect  our  own.  I come  to  warn  you 
for  your  own  good.” 

“Do  you  think,  Bishop,  that  your  people  would  attack 
the  procession  ?” 

“ I do  not,  but  the  native  Americans  want  to  provoke  a 
Catholic  riot,  and  if  they  can  do  it  in  no  other  way,  I be- 
lieve they  would  not  scruple  to  attack  the  procession  them- 
selves, for  the  sake  of  making  it  appear  that  the  Catholics 
had  assailed  them.” 

“What,  then,  would  you  have  me  do?” 

“ I did  not  come  to  tell  you  what  to  do.  I am  a church- 
man, not  the  Mayor  of  Xew  York;  but  if  I were  the  Mayor, 
I would  examine  the  laws  of  the  State,  and  see  if  there  were 
not  attached  to  the  police  force  a battery  of  artillery,  and  a 
company  or  so  of  infantry,  and  a squadron  of  horse;  and  I 
think  I should  find  that  there  were;  and  if  so,  I should  calx 
them  out.  Moreover,  I should  send  to  Mr.  Harper,  the 
Mayor-elect,  who  has  been  chosen  by  the  votes  of  this  party. 
I should  remind  him,  that  these  men  are  his  supporters;  1 
should  warn  him,  that  if  they  carry  out  their  design,  there 
will  be  a riot;  and  I should  urge  him  to  use  his  influence  in 
preventing  this  public  reception  of  the  delegates.” 

There  was  no  demonstration.  And  every  right-minded 


• Robert  H.  Morris. 


824 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES  D.D. 


man,  every  lover  of  peace  in  the  city,  must  have  applauded 
the  course  taken  by  Dr.  Hughes,  to  whose  prudent  firmness 
was  mainly  attributable  the  fact  that  New  York  was  saved 
from  riot,  bloodshed,  murder,  and  sacrilege,  and,  above  all, 
from  that  dreadful  feeling  of  unchristian  hate  between  man 
and  man,  citizen  and  citizen,  neighbor  and  neighbor,  which 
such  collisions  are  certain  for  years  after  to  leave  ranking 
in  the  breast  of  a community. 

We  cannot  pass  farther,  however,  without  saying  a word 
in  relation  to  the  manly  and  noble,  yet  temperate  and  digni 
fied  letter  of  Dr.  Hughes  to  Mayor  Harper.  Seldom  has 
there  appeared  in  the  Republic  a document  more  timely, 
more  eloquent,  more  triumphant,  or  more  happy  in  its  effects 
on  the  public  mind.  It  was  written  under  a threat  of  assas- 
sination, immediately  after  the  fearful  May  riots  of  Phila- 
delphia, and  at  a moment  when  there  was  every  reason  to 
apprehend  similar  or  worse  outbreaks  in  New  York  city. 

The  Bishop  just  took  the  stand  which  the  emergency  re- 
quired. He  assumed  that  bold  and  fearless  tone  which 
best  suits  the  American  character,  and  his  winged  words 
had  an  almost  magical  effect  on  the  popular  mind.  Never 
was  a document  more  eagerly  sought,  or  more  greedily  pe- 
rused. It  is  estimated  that  in  New  York  city  alone,  150,000 
persons  read  it  within  forty-eight  hours  after  its  first  publica- 
tion. The  effect  was  truly  wonderful.  The  excitement,  which 
before  had  reached  a maddening  height,  all  at  once  subsided, 
and  New  York  was  saved  from  the  outrages  which  had  just 
disgraced  a sister  city. 

In  this  memorable  letter.  Dr.  Hughes  triumphantly  vindi- 
cates himself  from  the  vile  charges  made  against  him  by  an 
unprincipled  press.  He  boldly  challenges  James  Gordon 
Bennett,*  Wiliam  L.  Stone,’ and  others,  to  establish  the  con- 
trary of  the  following  propositions  : 

“1. — I have  never  in  my  life  done  one  action,  or  uttered, 
a sentiment  tending  to  abridge  any  human  being  of  all 
or  any  of  the  rights  of  conscience  which  I claim  to  enjoy 
myself  under  the  American  Constitution. 


• Editor  ot  the  New  York  Herald. 


• Editor  of  the  New  York  Commercial  AdrertUar. 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


825 


“2. — I have  never  asked  or  wished  that  any  denomina- 
tion should  be  deprived  of  the  Bible,  or  such  version  of  the 
Bible  as  that  denomination  conscientiously  approved,  in  our 
common  or  public  schools. 

“3. — I have  never  entered  into  intrigue  or  collusion 
with  any  political  party  or  individual,  and  no  political  party 
or  individual  ever  approached  me  with  so  insulting  a pro- 
position. 

“4. — I have  never  requested  or  authorized,  the  ‘blacken- 
ing of  the  public  school  books’  in  the  city  of  New  York. 

“ 5. — In  all  my  public  life  in  New  York,  I have  done  no 
action,  uttered  no  sentiment  unworthy  of  a Christian  Bishop, 
and  an  American  citizen.” 

Then,  after  putting  the  same  or  similar  propositions  in  an 
affirmative  form,  and  stating  them  as  well-known  public 
facts,  which  he  held  himself  prepared  to  prove,  he  thus 
boldly  addresses  his  malignant  revilers ; 

“Now,  therefore,  James  Gordon  Bennett,  William  L. 
Stone,  and  ye  other  deceivers  of  the  public,  stand  forth,  and 
meet  Bishop  Hughes.  But  then,  come  forth  in  no  quibbling 
capacity;  come  forth  as  honest  men,  as  true  American  citi- 
zens, with  truth  in  your  hearts,  and  candor  on  your  lips. 
[ know  you  can  write  well,  and  can  multiply  words  and  mis- 
represent truth;  this  is  not  the  thing  that  will  serve  you. 
Come  forth  with  your  facts.  Bishop  Hughes  places  himself 
in  the  simple  panoply  of  an  honest  man,  before  the  Amer- 
ican people.  He  asks  no  favor,  but  he  simply  asks  whether 
the  opinion  of  Bishop  White  is  true,  that  with  the  American 
people  no  man  can  be  put  down  by  calumny.” 

James  G ordon  Bennett  and  William  L.  Stone  did  attempt 
“ to  stand  forth  ;”  but  we  think  all  vull  allow  that  they  proved 
no  match  for  the  gifted  Bishop.  They  dealt  in  naught  but 
personal  abuse  and  idle  declamation — in  “words,  words, 
words.”  I)r.  Hughes,  however,  called  for  and  dealt  in  hard 
facts,  those  “stubborn  things”  that  are  the  great  annoyance 
of  liars  and  scoundrels.  The  result  of  the  discussion  was 
most  happy.  It  contributed  in  a great  measure  to  clear  away 
the  dark  clouds  of  calumny  which  had  been  for  years  gather- 


820 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


ing  about  the  Empire  City.  In  short,  it  left  the  Catholics  in 
a proud  position. 

It  is  this  famous  letter  which  contains  the  touching  and 
beautiful  allusion  to  the  American  flag.  “I  can  even  now 
remember,”  writes  the  Bishop,  “my  reflections  on  flrst  be- 
holding the  American  flag.  It  never  crossed  my  mind  that 
a time  might  come  Avhen  that  flag,  the  emblem  of  the  freedom 
just  alluded  to,  should  be  divided  by  apportioning  its  stars  to 
the  citizens  of  native  birth,  and  its  stripes  only  as  the  por- 
tion of  the  foreigner.  I was,  of  course,  but  young  and  inex- 
perienced ; and  yet  even  recent  events  have  not  diminished 
my  confidence  in  that  ensign  of  civil  and  religious  liberty. 
It  is  possible  I was  mistaken,  but  I still  cling  to  the  delu- 
sion, if  it  be  one,  and  as  I trusted  to  that  flag  on  a nation' s 
faith.,  I think  it  more  likely  that  its  stripes  will  disappear 
altogether ; and  that  before  it  shall  be  employed  as  an  in- 
strument of  bad  faith  towards  the  foreigners  of  every  land, 
the  white  portions  will  blush  into  crimson,  and  then  the 
glorious  stars  alone  vdll  remain.” 

The  reader  must  not  imagine  that  battling  with  unruly 
trustees,  unprincipled  journalists,  and  “Native  American” 
ruffianism,  occupied  more  than  a small  portion  of  Bishop 
Hughes’  time.  No  duty  was  neglected.  His  vast  energy, 
and  a kind  of  magical  activity,  made  him  equal  to  every- 
thing. 

One  of  the  greatest  difficulties  which  he  had  to  encoun  ter 
was  the  immense  debt  that  hung  over  the  cli  arches  of  New 
York  city.'  It  retarded  the  progress  of  the  Church.  It  was 
a source  of  deep  anxiety,  and  never-ceasing  annoyance. 
The  increase  in  the  number  of  Catholics  was  so  great,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  they  were  so  poor,  that  in  order  to  pro- 
vide them  with  places  in  which  to  worship  God,  it  was 
necessary  to  borrow  large  sums  of  money,  at  a ruinous  inter- 
est. The  evil  was  increased  by  the  mismanagement  of  the 
lay-trustees,  so  that  at  the  time  Dr.  Hughes  began  to  man- 


• In  iftjl  the  whole  indebtedness  of  the  churches  of  the  city  amounted  to  about  $300,000,  and  it 
required  about  $20,000  each  year  to  pay  the  interest.  St.  Peter's  Church  was  the  one  that  caused 
him  the  greatest  trouble  and  labor;  its  indebtedness,  at  one  time,  amounted  to  $140,000. — Clarkt. 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


827 


age  the  affairs  of  the  diocese,  it  was  found  that  every  church 
edifice  in  the  city  was  mortgaged,  or  encumbered  with  debt, 
to  its  full  value.  It  took  many  a long  year  of  toil,  struggle, 
and  skilful  management  on  the  part  of  the  Bishop  to  get 
things  on  anything  like  a safe  financial  basis.' 

In  February,  1844,  the  Rev.  Dr.  McCloksey— now  our  vener- 
able Cardinal— was  consecrated  coadjutor  to  Bishop  Hughes; 
and  in  1845  the  latter  visited  Europe  in  the  interests  of  his 
diocese.  He  was  especially  desirous  to  obtain  suitable 
teachers  for  his  Catholic  schools. 

He  returned  in  April,  1846,  and  in  May  of  the  same  year 
attended  the  sixth  Council  of  Baltimore,  whose  deliberations 
resulted,  and  were  subsequently  confirmed  by  the  Holy  See,  in 
dividing  the  diocese  of  New  York  by  the  establishment  of  the 
new  sees  of  Buffalo  and  Albany.  Dr.  Timon  was  appointed 
to  Buffalo,  and  Dr.  McCloskey  was  translated  to  Albany. 

While  attending  the  Council,  Bishop  Hughes  was  sum- 
moned to  Washington  by  Mr.  Buchanan,  at  that  time  Secre- 
tary of  State  under  President  Polk,  to  confer  with  the  Ad- 
ministration in  reference  to  the  appointment  of  Catholic 
chaplains  in  the  army,  then  on  the  way  to  invade  Mexico. 
The  result  was  that  Father  John  McElroy,  S.J.,”  and  Father 
Anthony  Rey,  S.J.,  received  the  appointment. 

In  1846  and  1847,  the  Sisters  of  Charity  in  the  diocese  of 
New  York  were  organized  into  a separate  society,  thus  sev- 
ering all  connection  with  the  parent  house  at  Emmitts- 
burg.  In  1817,  Bishop  Connolly,  of  New  York,  applied  to 
the  Superior-General  of  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  at  Emmitts- 
burg,  for  some  Sisters  to  take  charge  of  an  orphan  asylum  in 
his  episcopal  city.  The  new  mission  was  confided  to  the 
pious  and  zealous  Sister  Rose- White,  and  two  companions. 
On  the  13th  of  September,  they  took  charge  of  St.  Patrick’s 
Asylum,  corner  of  Prince  and  Mott  Streets.  This  was  the 


' On  the  debt  of  the  churches,  and  what  Dr.  Hughes  did  to  liquidate  it,  see  Bayley’e  " Hiatory 
of  the  Catholic  Church  on  the  Island  of  New  York,"  pp.  143-7  ; Clarke’s  “ Lives  of  ths 
Deceased  Bishops;”  pp.  90-2.  Vol.  II.;  and  Hassard’s  " Life  of  Archbishop  Hughes." 

’ This  venerable  man  died  quite  recently,  at  a truly  patriarchial  age.  At  the  date  of  his  death 
he  was  the  oldest  Jesuit  Father  in  the  world.  See  sketch  of  him  in  “ A Popular  History  of  the 
Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States,"  p.  385. 


828 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


humble  beginning  of  that  flourishing  community,  whose  es- 
tablishments of  mercy,  charity,  and  education  now  cover 
the  Empire  State,  and  in  which  alone  the  rule  and  dress  of 
Mother  Seton  are  preserved  unaltered. 

Some  time  after  his  accession  to  the  see  of  New  York,  T)r. 
Hughes  wished  to  establish  a male  orphan  aslyum.  This, 
with  other  wants  in  view,  induced  the  zealous  prelate  to 
make  a formal  petition  to  Emmittsburg  for  a large  oolony  of 
Sisters.  The  council  of  the  mother-house  notified  him  that 
his  request  could  not  be  granted,  and,  moreover,  that  the 
Sisters  would  no  longer  be  allowed  to  take  charge  of  male 
orphans. 

The  Bishop  then  corresponded  with  the  Superior- Greneral, 
representing  the  urgent  necessities  of  his  diocese/  and  the 
result  was  the  establishment  of  a separate  mother-house  at 
New  York,  of  which  Dr.  Hughes  may  be  considered  the 
founder.  The  members  who  did  not  desire  to  remain  under 
the  new  order  of  things,  were  left  at  a perfect  liberty  to  go 
to  Emmittsburg.  Of  the  fifty  Sisters  at  that  time  in  the 
diocese,  thirty-one  remained;  and,  on  the  8th  of  December, 
1846,  the  Feast  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  of  the  Most 
BOssed  Virgin,  Dr.  Hughes  constituted  the  Sisters  of  Char- 
ity in  his  diocese  a separate  community,  under  the  title  of 
the  “ Sisters  of  Charity  of  St.  Vincent  de Paul.’’'  Pius  IX., 
by  a brief  of  June,  1847,  approved  the  new  organization, 
and  conferred  upon  it  all  the  rights  and  privileges  granted 
to  the  Sisters  of  Charity  in  France  or  America.  The  New 
York  Sisters  now  represent  the  Society  as  founded  by  the 
saintly  Mother  Seton.* 


• See  life  of  Mother  Seton  in  the  present  volume;  “A  Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Church 
Id  the  United  States,”  pp.  401-1. 

In  1876,  the  Sisters  of  Charity  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  numbered  600  members,  in  37  houses  and 
4B  dependencies,  chiefly  in  the  Middle  and  New  England  States.  They  conduct  16  female 
academies,  48  schools,  13  orphan  asylums,  and  3 hospitals. 

The  Academy  of  Mount  St.  Vincent,  on  the  Hudson,  is  the  chief  educational  institution  of  the 
Sisters  of  Charity  of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul.  First  opened  in  1847,  it  is  now  permanently  estab- 
lished, on  the  east  bank  of  the  Hudson,  a little  above  Riverdale,  at  a point  where  the  river  con- 
centrates its  most  forcible  claims  to  its  beautiful  appellation — “ The  Rhine  of  America.”  This 
academy  has  the  honor  of  having  been  founded  by  Archbishop  Hughes.  It  takes  the  name  of 
” Mount  St.  Vincent”  from  the  commanding  elevation  on  which  it  is  situated.  The  main 
building,  in  the  Byzantine  style,  possesses  great  architectural  beauty,  and  is  really  one  of  tb* 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


829 


“ He  went  about  doing  good.”  These  words  might  justly 
be  applied  to  the  whole  life  of  Dr.  Hughes.  In  1847  he  re- 
ceived an  invitation  from  John  Quincy  Adams,  John  C.  Cal- 
houn, and  other  distinguished  men,  to  preach  before  Congress 
in  the  Capitol  at  Washington.  He  took  as  his  subject,  “Chris 
tianity  the  only  Source  of  Moral,  Social,  and  Political  Regene- 
ration.” It  is  a splendid  discourse. 

Nor,  with  pen  and  tongue,  thus  eloquently  laboring  in  the 
cause  of  truth,  did  he  ever  for  a moment  forget  the  impor- 
tant interests  of  Catholic  education.  At  this  period  we  find 
that,  through  his  efforts,  the  Jesuit  Fathers,  Ladies  of  the 
Sacred  Heart,  Christian  Brothers,  Sisters  of  Charity,  and 
Sisters  of  Mercy  were  settled  down  to  the  almost  divine 
work  of  teaching  the  young  “ the  way  in  which  they  should 
go.” 

Though  one  of  the  most  devoted  citizens  of  the  United 
States,  Bishop  Hughes  never  forgot  his  native  land.  He  loved 
it  with  his  last  breath.  In  1847,  when  the  famine  was  raging 
in  Ireland,  he  sent  the  collections  just  taken  up  for  his 
Theological  Seminary,  amounting  to  $14,000,  to  relieve  his 
unhappy  countrymen.  He  was  a noble  patriot,  and  was 
greatly  mortified  by  the  failure  of  the  ’48  movement. 


largest  educational  structures  in  the  United  States.  The  tower  rises  290  feet  above  water  level. 
This  excellent  institution,  by  its  charter,  enjoys  all  the  rights  and  pri\-ilege8  of  any  literary  col- 
lege in  the  State.  The  studies  are  high,  varied,  and  practical.  Latin  enters  into  the  regula. 
course  of  the  last  three  years;  while  the  opportunities  for  the  pursuit  of  science  are  excellent. 
One  of  the  architectural  curiosities  is  Forrest’s  Castle.  Of  its  rooms,  the  largest  is  occupied  as  a 
cabinet;  while  another  is  devoted  to  specimens  in  conchology  and  natural  history.  The  entin 
“Arnold  collection”  of  minerals,  donated  to  the  academy  by  Dr.  Arnold,  has  greatly  en- 
larged and  enriched  the  cabinet,  making  it  one  of  the  most  complete  in  the  country.  There  ar^ 
about  2,000  volumes  in  the  library.  Thirty  Sisters  and  professors  constitute  the  teaching  staf 
the  students  number  about  200.  Mother  M.  Regina  Lawless,  the  accomplished  Superioress,  is  a 
tative  of  Ireland,  and  was  elected  to  her  present  position  in  1870.— M'-toi  y nf  the  CathoUk 
Church  in  (he  United  States,  p.  418. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


THE  FIKST  AECHBISHOP  OF  HEW  YOEK. 

New  York  raised  to  the  rank  of  a metropolitan  see — Tht 
Immaculate  Conception — Failing  health — 8t.  PatricK  s 
Cathedral — The  Archbishop' s energy — 2 he  Archbishop 
and  Pius  IX. — The  civil  war — His  mission  to  Europe 
— Some  of  his  last  acts — The  mournful  end — His  great 
ness  summed  up. 

The  brief  of  our  late  illustrious  Holy  Father,  Pope  Pius 
IX.,  erecting  New  York  into  an  archiepiscopal  see,  with  the 
sees  of  Boston,  Hartford,  Albany,  and  Buffalo  as  suffragan 
sees,  was  received  by  Dr.  Hughes  in  the  fall  of  1850.  He 
sailed  for  Europe,  and  had  the  honor  of  receiving  the 
pallium  from  the  hands  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  himself. 
This  was  a distinction  which  the  Archbishop  always  alluded 
to  with  pleasure  and  gi’atitude. 

In  1854  Archbishop  Hughes  was  one  of  the  American 
prelates  who  accepted  the  invitation  of  Pius  IX.  to  attend 
the  assembly  of  bishops  from  the  whole  Catholic  world, 
gathered  together  to  take  part  in  the  ceremonies  attendant 
upon  the  definition  of  the  dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Con- 
ception. He  was  a member  of  that  august  assembly,  and  as 
a devout  child  of  the  Most  Holy  Virgin,  he  was  greatly 
attached  to  the  dogma. 

On  his  return  to  New  York,  he  recounted  the- grandeur  of 
the  proceedings  at  which  he  had  the  pleasure  of  assisting. 
He  also  immediately  began  the  erection  of  a church  in 
honor  of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  which  he  solemnly 
consecrated  on  the  15th  of  May,  1858.  This  was  the  ninety- 
ninth  church  erected  and  dedicated  under  his  personal 
supervision. 

<53(i 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


831 


Everything  human  is  limited.  Everything  human,  unhap- 
pily, is  subject  to  change.  Such  had  been  the  active  and 
laborious  life  of  Archbishop  Hughes,  and  such  the  exciting 
scenes  and  contests  through  which  he  had  passed,  that  his 
health,  naturally  robust,  began  to  fail  him  in  1848,  when  he 
was  about  fifty  years  of  age. 

Many  of  his  great  labors  and  most  brilliant  efforts  were 
performed  in  the  midst  of  intense  suffering.  His  natural 
vigor  and  marvellous  activity  of  character,  it  is  true,  re- 
sisted for  a time  the  encroachment  of  disease  ; but  after  the 
year  1855,  he  made  but  few  efforts  such  as  those  that 
marked  the  first  part  of  his  episcopal  career. 

But  though  the  energy  of  life  was  on  the  decline.  Dr. 
Hughes  began  one  of  the  greatest  of  his  many  great  works 
— the  erection  of  the  new  and  magnificent  Cathedral  of  St. 
Patrick.  The  corner-stone  of  this  grand  structure  was  laid 
on  August  15th,  1858,  in  the  presence  of  seven  bishops, 
one  hundred  and  thirty  priests,  and  at  least  100,000  people. 
No  accident  occurred.  Everything  passed  off  in  the  most 
pel  feet  order. 

Some  idea  of  the  Archbishop’s  still  wonderful  energy,  and 
of  his  influence  withhisflock,  may  be  formedfrom  the  single 
fact  that  he  paid  visits  to  the  most  wealthy  Catholics  to 
solicit  contributions  to  the  new  Cathedral ; and  in  one  hun- 
dred of  these  visits,  which  did  not  occupy  over  twenty-four 
hours,  he  found  one  hundred  persons  who  gave  him  $1,000 
each.  Before  his  death  the  walls  of  this  noble  structure 
reached  the  height  of  twelve  or  fourteen  feet.' 

In  1859  he  took  an  active  part  in  showing  his  sympathy 
for  the  glorious  Pius  IX.,  when  the  star  of  evil  destiny 
shone  on  the  Eternal  City.  Dr.  Hughes  issued  an  inspiring 

■ Saikt  Patbiok's  Catbbdbai.,  New  York  City,  is  the  largest,  most  costly,  and  most  beautiful 
itrnctnre  of  the  kind  In  this  Bepnblic.  The  style  of  architecture  is  the  decorated  Gothic  which 
prerailed  in  Enrope  about  the  fourteenth  century.  The  foundation  is  of  immense  blocks  o; 
■nnlte,  and  all  above  the  base  course  consists  of  fine  white  marble.  The  extreme  length  is  333 
feet;  extreme  breadth,  171  feet.  To  the  height  of  330  feet,  the  two  massive  towers  will  eare 
point  heavenward.  Beauty  and  mejesty  mark  the  Interior.  The  altars  are  grand,  and  as 
collection  of  painted  glsu,  there  is  nothing,  perhaps.  In  modem  times  to  compare  with  th« 
windows.  The  dedication  ceremonies  took  place  on  the  2Sth  of  May,  1879,  on  which  memorsbls 
oeoasion  his  Eminence  Cardinal  MeOloskey  was  anrronnded  by  86  Archblshone  and  Bishops,  sad 
ever  100  priests 


832 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


pastoral  on  the  subject,  which  was  so  gratefully  received  by 
the  Ho'y  Father,  that  he  ordered  it  to  be  printed  at  the 
Propraganda  in  English  and  Italian — a distinction  never 
before  conferred  on  any  other  pastoral  at  Rome.' 

He  also  raised  a collection  of  $53,000^  in  aid  of  the  Holy 
Father’ s depleted  treasury.  On  receiving  this  present  and  the 
letter  of  sympath}^  which  accompained  it,  Pius  IX.  was 
moved  to  tears  ; and  as  a mark  of  his  grateful  appreciation 
he  sent  to  the  Archbishop  a first-class  medal  for  his  reli- 
gious zeal,  and  singular  and  devoted  attachment  to  the  chair 
of  Peter. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  late  civil  war.  Archbishop  Hughes 
was  frequently  consulted  by  Secretary  Seward  and  President 
Lincoln.  In  1861,  he  was  sent  by  the  G-^vernment  on  a 
special  mission  to  Europe.  Of  the  object  of  th's  journey  he 
wrote  to  Cardinal  Bamabo:  “My  mission  is  a mission  of 
peace  between  France  and  England  on  the  one  side,  and  the 
United  States  on  the  other.  I made  known  to  the  President 
that  if  I should  come  to  Europe  it  would  not  be  as  a partizan 
of  the  North  more  than  of  the  South  ; that  I should  repre- 
sent the  interests  of  the  South  as  well  as  of  the  North  ; in 
short,  the  interests  of  the  United  States,  just  the  same  as  if 
they  had  never  been  distracted  by  the  present  civil  war. 
The  people  of  the  South  know  that  I am  not  opposed  to 
their  interests.  They  have  even  published  that  in  their 
papers,  and  some  say  that  my  coming  to  Europe  is  with  a 
view  to  bring  about  a reconciliation  between  the  two  sections 
of  the  country.  But,  in  fact,  no  one  but  myself,  either  North 
or  South,  knows  the  entire  object  of  my  visit  to  Europe.” 

He  visited  Rome,  Ireland,  and  Paris,  and  had  long  and 
interesting  interviews  with  the  French  Emperor  and  Empress. 
After  his  return  home  in  1862,  an  official  intimation  was 
conveyed  to  the  Holy  See  that  the  President  of  the  United 
States  would  be  greatly  pleased  to  see  Archbishop  Hughes 
made  a Cardinal ; but  it  seems  that  Providence  reserved 
this  dignity  for  his  venerable  successor. 


> Archbighot)  Hughes  sent  a copy  of  this  masterly  pastoral  to  all  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe, 
ixcept  Queen  Victoria  and  Victor  Emmanuel. 


ST.  PATRICK’S  CATHEDRAL  NEW  YORK. 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.D. 


833 


The  last  institution  established  by  him  was  St.  Joseph’s 
Theological  Seminary,  at  Troy.  He  delivered  his  last  sermon 
in  June,  1863,  at  the  dedication  of  a church  ; and  his  last 
attempt  at  public  speaking  was  during  the  draft  riot  in  New 
York  city,  in  July,  1863,  when  he  made  a discourse  to  the 
people  at  the  request  of  Governor  Seymour,  to  dissuade  them 
from  violence.  He  spoke  from  the  balcony  of  his  residence 
in  Madison  Avenue,  and  was  obliged  to  remain  seated,  in 
consequence  of  the  extremely  feeble  state  of  his  health. 

Years  of  unceasing  toil  had  shattered  that  once  active  and 
powerful  frame.  He  had  spent  himself  for  God,  and  truth, 
and  religion  He  had  lived  ad  majorem  Dei  gloriam.  He 
had  borne  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day  He  had  fought 
the  goodfight,and  now  he  was  about  to  receive  the  reward  of 
the  faithful  servant.  And  surrounded  by  loved  and  vener- 
ated friends,'  the  great  prelate  departed  from  the  scenes  of 
his  earthly  toils,  and  trials,  and  triumphs,  on  January  3d, 
1864.  The  Legislature  and  the  Common  Council  passed 
resolutions  of  condolence,  and  testimonials  of  respect  were 
offered  from  every  quarter." 

Dr.  Hughes  was  a most  heroic,  venerable,  and  illustrious 
man.  Whether  we  contemplate  the  noble  boy  kneeling  by 
the  hay-rick,  or  the  famous  Archbishop  building  up  the 
Catholic  Church  in  the  Empire  State,  reflecting  honor  on  his 
Faith  and  his  countrymen  by  the  lustre  of  his  name,  or 
counselling  rulers  and  presidents,  speaking  words  of  warning 
and  wisdom  to  kings  and  emperors,  or  carrying  in  his  hand 
the  destiny  of  nations,  there  is  still  to  be  seen  the  same 
bright  life,  the  same  grandeur  of  soul.  It  is  the  sun  rising 
in  the  east,  moving  on  its  silent  course,  brilliantly  shining  in 
the  west,  and,  finall}^,  sinking  amid  the  sad  and  solemn 
splendor  of  its  evening  rays.  The  career  of  such  an  extraor- 
dinary man  is  a light  for  after-ages.  He  is  one  of  the 
glories  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  America. 


• Among  those  present  at  the  Archbishop’s  last  hours  were  his  two  sisters,  and  Cardinal 
McCloskey. 

’ For  the  greater  part  of  this  last  chapter  we  are  indebted  to  Dr.  R.  H.  Clarke’s  excellent  life 
of  Archbishop  Hughes,  in  his  “ Lives  of  the  Deceased  Bishops  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the 
United  States.” 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  S.J., 

THE  APOSTLE  OF  THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS.’ 


CHAPTER  L 

THE  YOUNG  MISSIONARY. 

Birth  and  education — Goes  to  America  and  joins  the  Society 
of  Jesus — Helps  to  huild  a university — Among  the 
Indians — The  Flathead  mission  founded — Bach  to  St. 
Louis — The  difficulties  of  the  Indian  missionary — A 
system  of  missions  planned — How  Father  De  Smet 
raised  money  to  help  on  the  work  of  God. 

The  greatest  Indian  missionary  of  our  age  was  Father 
Peter  John  De  Smet,  S.  J.  His  name  is  famous  throughout 
the  world.  If  it  were  possible  to  record  all  the  incidents 
and  adventures  of  his  wonderful  career,  a volume  would  be 
produced,  the  interest  of  which  could  be  surpassed  by  no 
work  of  fiction  or  romance. 

He  was  born  at  Termonde,  Belgium,  on  December  31st, 
1801,  of  a pious  and  noble  family.  When  of  the  proper 
age,  he  entered  the  episcopal  seminary  at  Mechlin.  While 
there,  he  and  a few  others  felt  called  to  devote  themselves  to 
the  American  missions.  One  day  there  appeared  amongst 
them  a venerable  priest,  a fellow-countryman,  worn  with  the 
labors  and  exposure  of  a difficult  mission  in  Kentucky.  It 
was  the  saintly  Charles  Nerinckx.  As  the  veteran  mission- 


> Chief  antborities  used:  “ A Popular  History  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  United  States 
De  SmeL  S.  J.  “ Narrative  of  a Year’s  Residence  Among  the  Tribes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains;  ” De 
Smet,  S.  J.,  “ Western  Missions  and  Missionaries;”  De  Smet,  S.  J.,  “New  Indian  Sketches;" 
De  Smet,  3.  J.,  “ Oregon  Missions  and  Travels  ever  the  Rocky  Mountains." 


835 


8B6 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMET,  S.  J. 


ary  depicted  the  rich  field  for  labor,  the  young  men  gathered 
around  him,  and  six  offered  to  accompany  him  to  America,  to 
enter  the  Society  of  Jesus.  Of  these,  Peter  John  De  Smet 
was  the  youngest.  But  great  caution  was  necessary,  as  the 
Government  gave  orders  to  stop  them.  They  eluded  the 
officers — De  Smet  very  narrowly — and  met  at  Amsterdam, 
whence  they  sailed  in  the  summer  of  1821. 

The  apostolic  travellers  reached  Philadelphia  after  a forty 
days’  voyage  ; but  young  De  Smet  was  sadly  disappointed. 
He  expected  to  see  wigwams — not  houses  like  those  in  Europe. 
The  Indians  were  already  the  objects  of  his  zeal.  Rev.  Mr. 
Nerinckx  took  his  young  candidates  to  the  Jesuit  novitiate 
at  Whitemarsh,  Maryland,  where  they  at  once  assumed  the 
habit.  Before  the  close  of  the  two  years’  probation,  how- 
ever, difficulties  in  the  diocese  made  it  necessary  to  break  up 
the  novitiate.  The  young  Belgian  novices  were  on  the  point 
of  returning  to  Europe,  when  Bishop  Dubourg  heard  of  it, 
and  gladly  bore  them  all  to  Missouri,  ’ and  there,  at  Florissant, 
De  Smet  took  his  vows.  At  this  time  he  made  himself  con- 
spicuous by  his  manly  energy  in  chopping  down  trees  and 
building  log-houses,  some  of  which  monuments  of  his 
strength  and  zeal  were  still  standing  not  many  years  ago. 
It  is  related  that  he  could  do  more  work  in  a day  than 
any  one  of  his  comrades. 

In  1828  Father  De  Smet  came  to  St.  Louis,  and  aided  in 
founding  the  St.  Louis  University,  on  Washington  Avenue, 
assisting  with  his  own  hands  in  quarrying  the  stones  for 
the  foundation.  He  afterwards  became  professor  in  this 
seat  of  learning,  and  won  the  love  of  the  students  by  the  un- 
remitting kindness  and  patience  with  which  he  discharged 
the  duties  of  his  office.’ 


' At  this  early  date  (1823)  St.  Louis  was  situated  in  the  midst  of  an  almost  pathless  wilderness, 
and  had  a population  not  exceeding  3,000  or  4.000  souls.  The  means  of  travel  were  truly  prim- 
itive. The  party,  of  which  young  De  Smet  was  one,  crossed  the  Alleghany  Mountains  with  a 
train  of  two  or  three  huge  wagons,  and  on  reaching  Pittsburgh,  bought  a couple  of  flat-boats, 
in  which  they  descended  the  Ohio  as  far  as  Shawneetown.  There  they  sold  their  boats  and  took 
the  usual  overland  route  to  St.  Louis. 

’ St.  Louis  University  is  the  oldest  Catholic  institution  in  the  Mississippi  Valley  with  the  rank 
and  privileges  of  a university.  It  was  founded  in  1829,  by  tbe  Fathers  of  the  Society  of  Jesus, 
end  three  years  later  was  incorporated  by  an  act  of  the  State  Legislature.  Among  its  founders 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  S.J. 


837 


The  Bishops  of  the  United  States,  assembled  at  the  Council 
of  Baltimore  in  1833,  confided  the  Indian  missions  of  the 
United  States  to  the  Fathers  of  the  Society  of  Jesus ; and 
Father  Be  Smet,  to  his  great  joy,  was  sent,  in  1836,  to 
found  a mission  among  the  Pottawatomies  on  Sugar  Creek. 
He  began  his  labors  with  two  companions.  A little  chapel 
soon  arose  in  the  wilderness,  and  beside  it  stood  the  log-huts 
of  the  missionaries.  It  was  a field  of  toil,  crosses,  and  pri- 
vations. A school  was  opened,  and  it  was  soon  crowded. 
Many  were  baptized,  and  even  the  sick  were  carried  for  miles 
to  be  enrolled  in  the  flock  of  the  great  Blackgown. 

In  a letter,  written  in  the  summer  of  1838,'  to  the  Lady 
Superioress  of  a religious  institution  at  his  native  place, 
Father  De  Smet  says : “I  received  your  letter  of  March  13  th 
All  your  communications  give  me  great  pleasure  and  much 
consolation.  I do  not  forget  my  native  place.  Continue, 
therefore,  to  send  me  very  frequently  the  most  minute  de- 
tails  You,  no  doubt,  expect  a little  recital  from  the 

depths  of  our  wilderness.  Well,  I will  exhibit  you  the  light 
and  the  shade. 

“ First,  I must  tell  you  the  great  loss  that  we  experienced 
towards  the  end  of  April.  Our  Superior  sent  us,  from  St. 
Louis,  goods  to  the  amount  of  $500,  in  ornaments  for  the 
church — a tabernacle,  a bell,  and  provisions  and  clothes  for 
a year.  For  a long  time  I had  been  without"  shoes,  and  from 
Easter  we  were  destitute  of  supplies.  All  the  Pottawatomie 
nation  were  suffering  from  scarcity,  having  only  acorns  and 
a few  wild  roots  for  their  whole  stock  of  food. 

“At  last,  about  the  20th  of  April,  they  announced  to  us  that 
the  much-desired  boat  was  approaching.  Already  we  saw 
it  from  the  highest  of  our  hills.  I procured,  without  delay, 

was  the  celebrated  Indian  missionary,  Father  De  Smet,  who  helped  to  build  it  with  his  owa 
hands,  and  who  was  its  first  treasurer.  It  possesses  an  excellent  library  of  16.500  volumes,  a 
complete  philosophical  and  chemical  apparatus,  and  a valuable  mnsenm.  The  total  number  of  the 
graduates  is  241;  present  number  of  students,  353;  and  professors,  17.  Among  its  professors  is 
the  learned  and  accomplished  Rev.  Walter  H.  Hill,  S.  J.,  author  of  the  two  best  Catholic  treatises, 
on  “ Logic  and  (Jeneral  Metaphysics,”  and  “ Ethics,  or  Moral  Philosophy,”  in  the  English  lan- 
guage. We  warmly  commend  these  excellent  works  to  all  Catholic  students.  The  Rev.  J.  E. 
Keller,  S.J.,  is  President  of  the  University.— flistory  of  tht  Catholic  Church  in  the  United 
States. 

> It  is  dated,  "Nation  of  the  Pottawatomies,  St.  Joseph,  July,  1336.” 


838 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  S.J. 


two  carts  to  go  m search  of  our  baggage.  I reached  there 
in  time  to  witness  a very  sad  sight.  The  vessel  had  struck 
on  a sawyer,'  was  pierced,  and  rapidly  sinking  in  the  waves. 
No  lives  were  lost.  ...  Of  our  effects,  four  articles  were 
saved — a plough,  a saw,  a pair  of  boots,  and  some  wine. 

“ Providence  was  still  favorable  to  us.  With  the  help  of 
the  plough,  we  were  enabled  to  plant  a large  field  of  corn. 
It  was  the  season  for  furrowing.  We  are  using  the  saw 
to  build  a better  house  and  to  enlarge  our  church,  already 
too  small.  With  my  boots,  I can  walk  in  the  woods  and 
prairies  without  fear  of  being  bitten  by  the  serpents  that 
throng  there.  And  the  wine  permits  us  to  offer  to  God 
every  day  the  most  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass — a privilege 
that  had  been  denied  us  during  a long  time.  We,  therefore, 
returned  with  courage  and  resignation  to  the  acorns  and 
roots  until  the  30th  of  May.  That  day  another  boat  ar- 
rived. By  that  same  steamer  I received  news  from  you,  as 
well  as  a letter  from  my  family,  and  from  the  good  Carmelite 
Superior. 

“Our  congregation  already  amounts  to  about  three  hun- 
dred. At  Easter  we  had  fifty  candidates  for  First  Commun. 
ion.  I recommend  to  your  prayers,  in  a very  special  manner, 
these  poor  Indians,  that  they  may  maintain  their  fervor. 
The  dangers  and  scandals  which  surround  them  are  very 
great.  I remarked,  in  a preceding  letter,  that  one  of  the 
principal  obstacles  to  the  conversion  of  the  savages  is  drink- 
ing. The  last  boat  brought  them  a quantity  of  liquors. 

“ Already  fourteen  among  them  are  cut  to  pieces  in  this 
barbarous  manner,  and  are  dead.  A father  seized  his  own 
child  by  the  legs  and  crushed  it,  in  the  presence  of  its 
mother,  by  dashing  it  against  the  post  of  his  lodge.  Two 
others  most  cruelly  murdered  an  Indian  woman,  a neighbor 
of  ours,  and  the  mother  of  four  children. 

“We  live  in  the  midst  of  the  most  disgusting  scenes. 


' Sawyer  is  the  name  given  to  a tree  which,  being  undermined  by  a current  of  water,  and  fal- 
ling into  the  stream,  lies  fast  by  the  roots,  with  its  branches  rocking  above  and  below  the  surface 
of  the  water,  with  the  fluctuations  of  the  current  of  the  stream,  from  which  motion  the  name  is 
derived. — Webstar. 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  S.J. 


839 


The  passion  of  the  savages  for  strong  drink  is  inconceivable. 
They  give  horses,  blankets,  all,  in  a word,  to  have  a little 
of  this  brutalizing  liquid.  Their  drunkenness  only  ceases 
when  they  have  nothing  more  to  drink.  Some  of  our  neo- 
phytes have  not  been  able  to  resist  this  terrible  torrent,  and 
have  allowed  themselves  to  be  drawn  into  it.  I wrote  an 
energetic  letter  to  the  government  against  these  abominable 
traffickers.  Join  your  prayers  to  our  efforts  to  obtain  from 
heaven  the  cessation  of  this  frightful  commerce,  which  is  in 
every  way  the  curse  of  the  savages. 

“I  visit  the  Indians  in  their  wigwams,  either  as  mission- 
ary, if  they  are  disposed  to  listen  to  me,  or  as  physician,  to 
see  their  sick.  When  I find  a little  child  in  great  danger, 
and  I perceive  that  the  parents  have  no  desire  to  hear  the 
Word  of  Grod,  I spread  out  my  vials.  I recommend  my 
medicines  strongly.  I first  bathe  the  child  with  a little 
camphor  ; then,  taking  some  baptismal  water,  I baptize  it, 
without  their  suspecting  it — and  thus  I have  opened  the 
gate  of  Heaven  to  agreat  number,  notwithstanding  the  wiles 
of  heU  to  hinder  them  from  entering. 

Two  years  after  this  a*still  wider  field  was  opened.  The 
Flatheadsof  the  Rocky  Mountains,  gaining  a knowledge  of 
the  Faith  from  some  Catholic  Iroquois,  who  had  wandered  to 
the  country,  sent  three  successive  embassies  to  the  Bishop  of 
St.  Louis  to  beg  for  a blackgown.  The  Bishop  referred 
them  to  the  Provincial  of  the  Jesuits  at  the  University;  but 
so  unexpected  was  the  visit  that  the  Father  Provincial  felt 
embarrassed. 

Father  Be  Smet,  however,  begged  to  be  permitted  to  la- 
bor for  the  salvation  of  these  poor  creatures.  When  the  ex- 
penses were  mentioned  as  somewhat  of  an  obstacle,  the 
great-hearted  missionary  destroyed  the  objection  by  exclaim- 
ing : “I  will  get  means  from  my  home — my  friends.  Only 
let  me  go  to  the  rescue  of  these  poor  Indians,  and  assuredly 
sufficient  means  will  soon  come  from  Europe  !” 

His  wish  was  granted,  and  on  the  30th  of  April,  1840,  De 
Smet  started  on  his  sublime  mission,  in  company  with  the 
annual  caravan  of  the  American  Fur  Company.  He  reached 


840 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMET,  S.J. 


his  destination,  and  at  the  close  of  the  first  day  2,000  In- 
dians assembled  before  his  tent  to  recite  their  prayers  in 
common.’  The  Lords  prayer,’  the  Creed,  and  the  Com- 
mandments, were  translated  with  the  aid  of  an  interpreter. 
Two  weeks  passed,  and  theFlatheads  knew  their  prayers. 

In  August,  Father  De  Smet  set  out  for  St.  Louis  to  re- 
port the  state  of  affairs.  While  journeying  along  the  track- 
less route,  himself  and  his  companions  were  surrounded  by 
a war-party  of  Blackfeet.  “Who  are  you?’  demanded  the 
chief  of  the  band,  as  he  <^yed  De  Smet’s  cassock  and  glitter- 
ing crucifix.  “ He  is  a blackgown,”  said  one  of  the  travel- 
lers ; “ he  is  a man  who  speaks  to  the  Great  Spirit.”  And 
those  savages,  the  terror  of  the  wilderness,  showed  him 
every  kindness.  The  great  missionary  pursued  his  way  in 
peace,  and  a warm  welcome  greeted  his  arrival  at  St.  Louis. 

In  the  spring  of  1841,  Father  De  Smet,  accompanied 
by  a band  of  Jesuit  Fathers,  again  set  out  for  his  Rocky 
Mountain  Flatheads.  His  arrival  made  every  heart  wild 
with  joy.  The  tribe  was  now  to  select  a permanent  resi- 
dence, and  Bitter-root  River  was  the  site  chosen.  Here  a 
Christian  village  was  founded,  t^e  cross  planted,  and  the 
mission  of  St.  Mary’s  begun  on  Rosary  Sunday.  Never  was 
there  a more  willing  people. 

Father  De  Smet  had  now  fairly  established  that  personal 
ascendency  over  the  dusky  roamers  of  the  West,  which,  as 
the  Great  Blackgown,  he  retained  throughout  his  long  life. 

And  yet,  let  no  one  imagine  that  his  pathway  was  so 
smooth  and  successful  that  he  met  with  no  difficulties.  It 
was  all  hard,  up-hill  work.  There  were  superstitions  to  era- 
dicate, medicine- men  to  encounter,  barbarous  languages  to 
learn,  thousands  of  miles  to  travel,  unheard  of  fatigues  to  un- 


* Father  De  Smet.  however,  was  not  the  first  missionary  in  Oregon.  Dr.  Blanchet,  now  the 
venerable  Archbishop  of  Oregon  City,  began  to  labor  in  that  wild  region  as  early  as  1838.  See 
“ Popular  Hist,  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  the  U.  S./'  p.  592,  and  Shea's  “ Catholic  Missions.,”  p. 
470. 

* The  Lord's  Prayer,  according  to  Father  De  Smet,  is  as  follows  in  the  Flathead  language: 

“ Kyle-e-ou  Itchitchemask  askwest  kowakshamenshem,  ye-elstyloog.  Entziezie  telletzil 
epoeoez.  Assintails  ye-elstoloog  etzageel  Itchitchemask,  Koogwitzelt  yetlilgwa  lok-aitsiapetzipem- 
Kowaeksweemillem  klotaiye  kloietskwen  etzageel  kaitskolgwelem  klotaaye  kloistskweni  kliel* * 
kyloeg  koayalokfihilem  takaekskwentem  klotaye  kowaekegweeltem  klotaye.  KomieetzegaU.  * 


p.  T.  DE  SMET  S.  J, 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  8.  J. 


841 


dergo,  dangers  from  wild  beasts  and  from  wandering  sav- 
ages scarcely  less  wild. 

The  task  of  learning  even  one  rude  dialect  was  in  itself  a 
work  that  required  amazing  patience  and  no  common  talent. 
On  this  point,  Father  Joset,  S.J.,  an  experienced  missionary 
in  the  same  field,  wrote,  in  1859  : “ The  language  is  the  great- 
est difiiculty.  One  must  learn  it  as  best  he  can.  There  is 
no  written  language,  there  are  no  interpreters,  there  is  very 
little  analogy  with  other  tongues.  The  pronunciation  is  very 
harsh,  the  turn  of  thought  is  entirely  different  from  ours. 
They  have  no  abstract  ideas,  everything  is  concrete.  And 
with  these  elements  it  is  necessary  to  create  a religious,  and 
even  spiritual,  phraseology ; for  the  savages  know  nothing 
that  is  not  material. 

“ I have  been  here  nearly  fifteen  years.  I am  not  yet  mas- 
ter of  the  language,  and  am  far  from  flattering  myself  with 
the  hope  of  becoming  so.  My  catechist  remarked  to  me  the 
other  day,  ‘You  pronounce  like  a child  learning  to  talk. 
When  you  speak  of  religion,  we  understand  you  well ; but 
when  you  change  the  subject,  it  is  another  thing.’  That  is 
all  I want.  I have,  at  last,  succeeded  in  translating  the  cate- 
chism. I think  it  is  nearly  correct.  You  can  hardly  im- 
agine what  it  cost  me  to  do  it.  I have  been  constantly  at 
work  at  it  since  my  arrival  here.” 

But  the  noble  De  Smet  always  rose  superior  to  the  perils 
and  difficulties  of  his  position.  On  again  reaching  the  city 
of  St.  Louis,  he,  in  council  with  his  superiors,  planned  a sys- 
tem of  missions,  and  devoted  his  life  to  the  work  of  carrying 
it  out.  To  effect  this  grand  object  he  was  in  continual  move- 
ment. One  year  he  would  set  out  for  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
visit  new  tribes,  prepare  the  way  for  a mission ; and  when  the 
Jesuit  Fathers  began  permanent  labors,  he  would  pass  to  oth- 
ers, already  established,  where  he  would  see  many  a familiar 
face,  and  receive  many  a warm  greeting.  Then  he  would  plod 
his  way  back  to  St.  Louis,  over  trackless  wilds,  rough  rocks, 
rushing  rivers,  and  often  through  tribes  of  hostile  savages  with 
brandished  tomahawks,  whom  he  would  disarm  by  the  majesty 
of  his  presence,  and  by  words  of  peace  and  gentleness. 


842 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMET,  S.  J. 


At  St  Louis  there  would  be  little  rest.  Resources  were 
needed  for  the  missions.  But,  unfortunately,  the  Catholics 
of  the  United  States  have  always  shown  little  interest  in  the 
Indian  missions,  and  done  little  to  cheer  and  support  the 
devoted  priests  laboring  on  them.  To  Europe,  and  espe- 
cially to  his  native  Belgium,  Father  Be  Smet  was  obliged  to 
look  for  the  necessary  means.  He  even  visited  Ireland,  where 
his  fame  had  preceded  him,  and  took  part  in  one  of  the 
Repeal  meetings,  riding  in  the  same  carriage  uith  Daniel 
O’  Connell  and  Bishop  Hughes.  Thus,  by  his  own  personal 
exertions,  he  raised  thousands  of  dollars  to  carry  on  his 
great  work.  In  1853,  his  united  journeys  represented  an 
extent  of  land  and  water  surpassing  five  times  the  circum- 
ference of  the  globe  ! 

Did  space  permit,  how  many  pleasing  incidents  might  be 
related ! His  beautiful  letters  are  full  of  them.  At  one 
time  it  is  a vivid  description  of  a mosquito  attack  against 
the  combined  force  of  branches,  handkerchiefs,  and  smoke 
of  his  party.  On  another,  it  is  the  roaring  of  bears  and 
wild  beasts  at  the  sight  of  the  camp-fires  at  night.  Then, 
it  is  a learned  disquisition  on  the  geological  peculiarities  of  a 
country — on  its  flowers,  birds,  or  minerals.  Or,  still  again, 
it  is  some  Indian  scenes  of  horror,  novelty,  or  edification. 

On  one  occasion  he  was  giving  instruction  on  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments in  the  camp  of  a Sioux  tribe.  “When  I ar- 
rived,” he  writes,  “at  the  Sixth  and  Seventh  Commandments, 
a general  whispering  and  embarrassed  laugh  took  place 
among  my  barbarous  auditory.  I inquired  the  reason  of  this 
conduct,  and  explained  to  them  that  the  law  I came  to  an- 
nounce was  not  mine,  but  God’s,  and  that  it  was  obligator}^ 
on  all  the  children  of  men.  . . . The  great  chief  at  once  arose, 
and  replied : ‘ Father,  we  hear  thee.  We  know  not  the 
words  of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  we  acknowledge  our  ignor- 
ance. We  are  great  liars  and  thieves;  we  have  killed;  we 
have  done  evil  that  the  Great  Spirit  forbids  us  to  do.  But 
we  did  not  know  those  beautiful  words.  In  future,  we  will 
try  to  live  better,  if  thou  wilt  but  stay  with  us  and  teach 
us.’  ” 


CHAPTER  n. 


THE  GREAT  BLACK-GOWN  AS  CHAPLAIN  OF  THE  UNITED 
STATES  ARMY  SENT  AGAINST  THE  MORMONS. 

Our  Government  recognizing  Father  De  Smets  great  m- 
Jiuence  over  the  Indians — Letter  of  De  Smet — The  Mor- 
mons— Appointed  chaplain  in  United  States  Army — 
Pen-pictures — The  buffalo — Scenes  of  death — A caravan 
on  the  plains — Submission  of  the  Mormons. 

The  Government  of  the  United  States,  which  in  its  Indian 
policy  has  never  favored  Catholic  missions,  recognized  the 
great  ability  and  influence  of  Father  De  Smet,  and  often 
called  for  his  aid,  conscious  that,  where  Indian  agents  had 
only  made  matters  worse,  the  Olustrious  black-gown  could 
restore  peace  and  inspire  confidence.  Thus  he  was  called  to 
put  an  end  to  the  Sioux  war,  and  in  Oregon  to  bring  the 
Yakamas  and  other  tnbes  to  cease  hostilities.  He  was  also 
chaplain  in  the  expedition  to  Utah,  and  opened  a new  field 
of  missions  among  the  tribes  in  that  section. 

The  following  letter  of  Father  De  Smet,  recounting  the 
scenes  and  incidents  of  the  expedition  against  the  Mormons, 
is  fuU  of  deep  interest. 

" St.  Louis,  Nov.  1,  1859. 

“ Reverend  and  Dear  Father, — In  accordance  with  your 
request,  I proceed  with  great  pleasure  to  give  you  some  de- 
tails of  my  recent  journey  : 

“On  the  20th  of  May,  18.58. 1 set  out  from  St.  Louis  for  the 
western  portion  of  North  Anienca,  and  after  an  absence  of 
about  sixteen  months,  I returned  to  the  point  from  whence 
I set  out.  During  this  interval.  I had  accompanied,  as  chap- 
lain, an  army  sent  out  by  the  United  States  against  the 

843 


844 


THE  MOST  REV.  JOHN  HUGHES,  D.B. 


Mormons  and  the  savages,  I propose  to  give  you  somo  de- 
tails of  this  double  expedition. 

“ Not  to  fatigue  you,  I will  endeavor  to  be  brief.  At  best, 
however,  my  narrative  will  fill  some  pages,  as  my  recent 
voyage  has  been  very  long.  It  exceeded  fifteen  thousand 
English  miles,  or  five  thousand  leagues.  I propose,  then,  to 
give  you  some  details  in  regard  to  the  different  countries  I 
have  traversed,  and  the  seas  I have  crossed,  and  of  my  visit 
to  the  savage  tribes, my  dear  spiritual  children  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  the  CcEur-d’ Alenes,  Kalispels,  Pends-d’OreOles, 
Flatheads,  and  Koetenays  ; of  my  stay  among  the  different 
tribes  of  the  Great  Plains  of  the  Upper  Missouri,  and  of  the 
manner  in  which  my  time  was  spent  in  the  army  of  the  United 
States,  in  quality  of  chaplain,  and  envoy  extraordinary  of  that 
Government,  These  details,  I venture  to  hope,  will  not  be  with- 
out interest  for  you,  and  they  will  form  the  subject  of  my 
little  sketch. 

“Several  years  have  passed,  since  the  Mormons,  that  ter- 
rible sect  of  modern  fanatics,  flying  from  civilization,  set- 
tled in  the  midst  of  an  uninhabited  wilderness.  With 
hearts  full  of  hate  and  bitterness,  they  never  ceased,  on 
every  occasion  which  presented  itself,  to  agitate  the  coun- 
try, provoke  the  inhabitants,  and  commit  acts  of  robbery 
and  murder  against  many  travellers  and  adventurers  from 
the  United  States. 

“ In  September,  1857,  one  hundred  and  twenty  emigrants 
from  Arkansas,  men,  women,  and  children,  are  said  to  have 
been  horribly  massacred  by  the  Mormons,  in  a place  called 
the  Mountain  Meadows.  These  fanatics  never  ceased  to  defy 
the  Government,  and  announced  that  the  day  had  arrived 
to  avenge  the  death  of  their  prophet,  Joseph,  and  his 
brother,  and  to  retaliate  the  wrongs  and  acts  of  injustice 
and  cruelty  of  which  they  pretended  to  have  been  the  victims 
in  the  States  of  Missouri  and  Illinois,  whence  they  had 
been  forcibly  expelled  by  the  inhabitants. 

“ On  two  different  occasions,  the  Governor  and  subaltern 
officers,  sent  by  the  President  of  the  United  States,  had  met 
with  such  strong  opposition  from  the  Mormons  in  the  attempt 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  S.  J. 


845 


to  accomplish  their  respective  duties,  that  they  were  forced 
to  quit  the  Territory  of  Utah,  and  to  return  to  lay  their 
complaints  before  the  President.  Congress  resolved  to  send 
a third  governor,  accompanied,  this  time,  by  two  thousand 
soldiers,  who  were  to  be  followed  by  from  two  to  four  thou- 
sand others  in  the  following  spring  of  1858.  I accompanied 
the  last-named  expedition.  On  the  15th  of  May,  1858,  the 
Minister  of  War  wTote  to  me  as  follows  : — 

“ ‘The  President  is  desirous  to  engage  you  to  attend  the 
army  for  Utah,  to  officiate  as  chaplain.  In  his  opinion 
your  services  would  oe  important,  in  many  respects,  to  the 
public  interest,  particularly  in  the  present  condition  of  our 
affairs  in  Utah.  Having  sought  information  as  to  the 
proper  person  to  be  thus  employed,  his  attention  has  been  di- 
rected to  you,  and  he  has  instructed  me  to  address  you  on 
the  subject,  in  the  hope  that  you  may  consider  it  not  incom- 
patible with  your  clerical  duties  or  your  personal  feelings  to 
yield  to  his  request,’  etc. 

“ The  Reverend  Father  Provincial,  and  all  the  other  con- 
suitors,  considering  the  circumstances,  expressed  themselves 
in  favor  of  my  accepting.  I immediately  set  out  for  Fort  Lea- 
venworth, Kansas  Territory,  to  join  the  army  at  that  point. 
On  the  very  day  of  my  arrival,!  took  my  place  in  the  Seventh 
Regiment,  composed  of  eight  hundred  men,  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  excellent  Colonel  Morrison,  whose  staff  was 
composed  of  a numerous  body  of  superior  officers  of  the  line 
and  engineers.  General  Harney,  the  commander-in-chief, 
and  one  of  the  most  distinguished  and  most  valiant  generals 
of  the  United  States,  with  great  courtesy,  installed  me  him- 
self in  my  post. 

“ The  brave  colonel,  though  a Protestant,  thanked  him 
very  heartily.  ‘General,’  said  he,  ‘I  thought  myself 
honored  when  intrusted  with  the  command  of  the  en- 
gineers ; to  have  attached  to  my  command  a representative 
of  the  ancient  and  venerable  Church,  I hold  as  an  additional 
favor.’ 

“ General  Harney  then  shook  hands  with  me,  with  great 
kindness,  bade  me  welcome  to  the  army,  and  assured  me 


846 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  8MET,  S.  J. 


that  I should  be  left  perfectly  free  in  the  exercise  of  my  holy 
ministry  among  the  soldiers.  He  kept  his  word  most  loy- 
ally, and  in  this  he  was  seconded  by  all  the  oflBcers.  Dur- 
ing the  whole  time  that  I was  among  them,  I never  met 
with  the  slightest  obstacle  in  the  discharge  of  my  duties. 
The  soldiers  had  always  free  access  to  my  tent  for  confession 
and  instruction.  I had  frequently  the  consolation  of  cele- 
brating the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  early  in  the  morning, 
and  on  each  occasion  a large  number  of  soldiers  devoutly 
approached  the  holy  table. 

“ A word  or  two  in  regard  to  the  character  of  the  countries 
through  which  we  passed,  will, perhaps, be  agreeable  to  you.  I 
left  Fort  Leavenworth  on  the  1st  of  June,  1858,  in  the  Seventh 
Regiment,  commanded  by  the  worthy  Colonel  Morrison.  I 
had  an  opportunity  of  observing,  with  admiration,  the  ex- 
traordinary rapidity  of  the  progress  of  civilization  in  Kansas. 
A space  of  276  miles  was  already  in  great  part  occupied  by 
white  settlers . No  further  back  than  1851,  at  the  time  of 
my  return  from  the  great  council,  held  on  the  borders  of  the 
Platte  or  Nebraska  river,  the  plains  of  Kansas  were  almost 
entirely  without  inhabitants,  containing  only  a few  scattered 
villages  of  Indians,  living,  for  the  most  part,  by  the  chase,  by 
fishing,  and  on  wild  fruits  and  roots. 

“But  eight  years  have  made  an  entire  change.  Many 
towns  and  villages  have  sprung  up,  as  it  were,  by  enchant- 
ment ; forges  and  mills  of  every  kind  are  already  very  nu- 
merous ; extensive  and  beautiful  farms  have  been  established, 
in  all  directions,  with  extraordinary  rapidity  and  industry. 
The  face  of  the  country  is  entirely  changed.  In  1851,  the 
antelope,  the  wild  deer,  and  the  wild  goat  bounded  ai 
liberty  over  these  extensive  plains,  nor  is  it  much  longer  ago 
that  these  fields  were  the  pasture  of  enormous  herds  of 
buffaloes ; to-day  they  are  in  the  possession  of  numerous 
droves  of  horned  cattle,  sheep  and  hogs,  horses  and  mules. 
The  fertile  soil  rewards  a hundred-fold,  the  labors  of  the  hus- 
bandman. "Wheat,  corn,  barley,  oats,  flax,  hemp,  all  sorts 
of  garden  stuff,  and  all  the  fruits  of  the  temperate  zone,  are 
produced  there  in  abundance.  Emigration  tends  thither, 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMET,  S.  J. 


847 


and  commerce  follows  in  its  tracks,  and  acquires  new  impor- 
tance every  day. 

“ Leiivenworth  is  the  principal  town  of  Kansas  Territory. 
It  contains  already  about  ten  thousand  souls,  though  it  has 
sprung  into  existence  within  the  last  six  years.  It  is  beau- 
tifully and  advantageously  situated  on  the  Missouri  river. 
It  has  a Bishop,  two  Catholic  churches,  a convent  with  a 
boarding-school  and  a day-school.  There  are  already  fifteen 
churches,  twenty-three  stations,  sixteen  priests,  five  relig- 
ious communities,  and  four  manual  labor  schools  for  the 
Osage  and  Pottawatomie  Indians,  which  are  under  the  care 
of  our  Fathers  and  Religious  Ladies  of  different  orders. 

‘ ‘ The  greater  portion  of  the  Territory  is  not  thickly  wooded. 
The  surface  of  the  country,  as  a general  thing,  is  roUing  and 
well  adapted  to  agriculture  ; it  is  not  unlike  the  billows  of  a 
vast  ocean,  suddenly  arrested  in  its  flow  and  converted  into 
solid  land.  The  air  is  fresh  and  wholesome.  As  one  rises 
with  the  elevations  of  the  soil,  the  graceful  undulation  of  the 
alternating  vale  and  hill  contrast  admirably  with  the  waving 
lines  of  walnut  trees,  oaks,  and  poplars,  which  mark  the 
course  of  each  little  river.  The  banks  of  each  stream  are 
generally  more  or  less  thickly  wooded.  We  ascended  the 
vaUey  of  the  Little  Blue  for  three  days,  making  a distance 
of  fifty-three  miles. 

“ Tlie  names  of  the  principal  plants  which  attract  the  atten- 
tion of  the  botanist  in  the  plains  of  Kansas,  are : the  an- 
othera^  with  its  brilliant  yellow  flowers,  the  amorpJia  and 
ai'temisia^  the  commelina,  the  blue  and  purple  lupin,  dif- 
ferent forms  and  species  of  cactus,  the  pradescantia,  the 
mimosa,  and  the  white  mimulus. 

“ The  waters  of  the  Little  Blue  are  left  at  a distance  of  275 
miles  from  Fort  Leavenworth.  Continuing  the  route  from 
that  point,,  you  cross  elevated  prairies  of  a distance  of 
twenty-six  miles,  and  enter  the  great  valley  of  the  Nebraska 
or  Platte  river,  at  the  distance  of  fifteen  miles  from  Fort 
Kearney.  This  river,  up  to  its  two  forks,  is  about  three 
thousand  yards  wide;  its  waters  are  yellowish  and  muddy  in 
the  spring  freshets,  and  resemble  those  of  tin  Missouri  and 


848  FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMET,  8.  J. 

tli6  Mississippi}  it  is  not  so  deep  astliose  streams}  its  current 
is  very  rapid. 

“ Fort  Kearney  is  rather  insignificant.  It  consists  of  three 
or  four  frame  houses  and  several  made  of  adobes,  a kind  of 
coarse  brick  baked  in  the  sun.  The  Government  has  a mili- 
tary post  there,  for  the  tranquility  of  the  country,  and  to 
provide  for  the  safety  of  travellers  crossing  the  desert  to  go 
to  California,  Oregon,  and  the  Territories  of  Utah  and 
Washington. 

“ A great  number  of  Pawnee  Indians  were  encamped  at  a 
Little  distance  from  the  Fort.  I come  near  witnessing  a battle 
between  them  and  a war-party  of  Arapaboes,  who,  favored 
by  the  night,  had  succeeded  in  approaching  the  camp  unseen, 
almost  forty  strong.  The  Pawnees  had  just  let  their  horses 
loose  at  break  of  day,  when  the  enemy,  with  loud  cries, 
rushed  into  the  drove,  and  carried  away  many  hundreds  with 
them  at  fuUgaUop  The  alarm  immediately  spread  through- 
out the  camp.  The  Pawnees,  indifferently  armed  and  al- 
most naked,  rushed  to  the  pursuit  of  the  Arapahoes,  caught 
up  with  them,  and  a combat  more  noisy  than  bloody  took 
place.  A young  Pawnee  chief,  the  most  impetuous  of  his 
band,  was  killed,  and  three  of  his  companion  wounded.  The 
Arapahoes  lost  one  killed  and  many  wounded. 

“Desirous  to  stop  the  combat,  I hurried  to  the  scene  of 
battle  with  an  aid-de-camp  of  the  general,  but  all  was  over 
when  we  arrived;  the  Pawnees  were  returning  with  their 
dead  and  wounded  and  all  the  stolen  horses.  On  their  re- 
turn to  camp,  nothing  was  heard  but  cries  of  sorrow,  rage, 
and  despair,  with  threats  and  vociferations  against  their 
enemies.  It  was  a harrowing  scene.  The  deceased  warrior 
was  decorated  and  painted  with  all  the  marks  of  distinction 
of  a great  brave,  and  loaded  with  his  finest  ornaments.  They 
placed  him  in  the  grave,  amid  the  acclamations  and  lamenta- 
tions of  the  whole  tribe. 

“The  next  day  the  Pawnee-Loups  invited  me  to  their  camp. 

I found  there  two  French  Creoles,  old  acquaintances  of 
mine,  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  They  received  me  with  the 
greatest  kindness,  and  desired  to  act  as  my  interpreters.  I had 


FATHER  PETER  JOHX  DE  SMET,  S.  J. 


849 


a long  conference  on  religion  with  these  poor,  unhappy  sav- 
ages They  listened  with  the  most  earnest  attention.  After 
the  instruction,  they  presented  to  me  208  little  children,  and 
very  earnestly  begged  me  to  regenerate  them  in  the  holy 
watei’s  of  Baptism.  These  savages  have  been  the  terror  of 
travellers  obliged  to  pass  through  their  territory  ; for  many 
years  their  character  has  been  that  of  thieves,  drunkards, 
and  ruffians,  and  they  are  brutalized  by  drink,  which  they 
readily  obtain,  owing  to  their  proximity  to  the  frontiers 
of  civilization.  This  accursed  traffic  has  always  and  every- 
where been  the  ruin  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  it  leads  to 
their  rapid  extinction. 

“Two  days’  march  above  Fort  Kearney,  at  a place  called 
Cottonwood  Springs,  I found  thirty  lodges  of  Ogallallas,  a 
Sioux  or  Dacotah  tribe.  At  their  request  I baptized  aU 
their  children.  In  1851,  at  the  Great  Council  on  the  Platte, 
I had  bi ought  them  the  same  blessing.  They  told  me  that 
a great  number  of  their  children  had  died  since,  carried  off 
by  epidemics,  which  had  raged  among  the  nomadic  tribes  of 
the  plains.  They  are  much  consoled  at  the  thought  of  the 
happiness  which  children  obtain  by  holy  Baptism.  They 
know  its  high  importance,  and  appreciate  it  as  the  greatest 
favor  which  they  can  receive. 

“General  Harney  had  many  friendly  conferences  with  the 
Pawnees,  the  OgaUallas,  and  Sheyennes,  in  which  he  strongly 
advised  them  to  cease  molesting  the  whites  who  might  pass 
through  their  borders,  adding  that  on  this  condition  alone 
could  they  remain  at  peace  with  the  United  States. 

“I  have  so  often  spoke  of  the  buffalo  in  my  letters,  that 
this  time  I might  pass  him  by  in  silence.  However,  I will 
mention  it  for  the  purpose  of  saying  that  the  race  is  not  ex- 
tinct in  these  parts,  though  it  is  becoming  more  rare  to  find 
buffaloes  on  the  highway  across  the  plains,  which  its  in- 
stinct must  have  taught  it  to  avoid.  We  met  our  first  herds 
of  this  noble  animal  in  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Kearney. 
The  sight  created  great  excitement  among  those  soldiers  who 
liad  not  visited  the  plains  before,  and  they  burned  to  bnng 
down  one  or  two. 


850 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  S.  J. 


“ Armed,  as  they  were,  with  the  famous  Minie  rifles,  they 
might  have  made  a good  hunt,  had  they  not  been  on  foot, 
while  the  buffaloes  were  at  full  gallop;  it  was,  therefore, 
impossible  to  get  near  them.  They  fired,  however,  at  a dis. 
tance  of  two  hundred  or  three  hundred  yards.  A single  buf- 
falo was  wounded  in  the  leg.  Its  wound  compelled  it  to  lag 
behind,  and  he  became  the  target  of  aU  our  men.  A con- 
fused sound  of  cries  and  rifle-shots  arose,  as  if  the  last  hour 
had  come  for  the  last  buffalo.  Riddled  with  balls,  his 
tongue  lolling  out,  the  blood  streaming  from  his  throat  and 
nostrils,  the  poor  brute  fell  at  last.  To  cut  him  up  and  dis- 
tribute the  meat  was  the  work  of  a moment.  Never  wai 
buffalo  more  rapidly  transformed  into  steak  and  soup, — 
every  one  would  have  his  piece. 

“While  these  things  were  going  on.  Captain  P , mounted 

on  a fine  horse,  approached  a bull,  already  terrified  by  the 
rifle-shots  and  the  terrible  noise  of  our  soldiers,  who  were 
novices  to  the  chase,  and  fired  at  him  twice  almost  point- 
blank.  The  buffalo  and  the  horse  stopped  at  the  same  in- 
stant. In  spite  of  all  his  efforts.  Captain  P could  not 

make  his  horse,  unaccustomed  to  the  hunt,  advance  a single 
step,  and  the  furious  buffalo  plunged  both  horns  in  his  flank, 
and  threw  him  down,  dead. 

“ In  this  critical  moment  the  courageous  rider  did  not  lose 
his  presence  of  mind.  He  leaped  from  his  horse  over  the 
buffalo’s  back,  gave  him  two  more  bullets  from  his  six- 
shooter,  and  completely  baffled  him.  The  captain  then  fled 
to  a gully,  which  was  luckily  both  deep  and  near  at  hand. 
The  buffalo,  unable  to  follow  him,  abandoned  his  persecu- 
tor, who  returned  to  camp  with  his  horse’s  saddle  on  his 
back.  A horse  must  be  well  trained  to  hunt  the  buffalo, 
and  must  be  trained  specially  for  buffalo  hunting ; other- 
wise, the  danger  is  very  great,  and  the  consequence  may  be 
fa  tab 

“During  the  months  of  June  and  July,  tempests  and  falls 
of  rain  and  hail  are  very  frequent,  and  almost  of  daily  oc- 
currence, towards  evening,  in  the  valley  of  the  Platte,  which 
is  rhe  country  of  storms  and  whirlvdnds  par  excellence. 


FATHER  PETER  JOHX  DE  SMET,  S.  J. 


851 


The  gathering  of  these  storms  can  be  noticed  at  a great  dis- 
tance, as  a sea.  At  first,  light  spots  of  clouds  are  observed 
on  the  horizon,  which  a^’e  followed  by  dark  masses  of  cloud, 
which  move  along  in  succession,  crowding  one  upon  another, 
and  spreading  over  the  sky  with  extraordinary  rapidity, 
they  approach  and  vross  each  othei ; they  burst  and  poui 
fcrth  torrents  of  water,  which  drench  the  valleys,  or  volleys 
of  hail,  which  crush  the  herbs  and  flowers  ; the  stonn  clouds 
then  disappear  as  rapidly  as  they  have  come. 

“ ‘ Every  evU  has  its  remedy,’  says  the  proverb,  and  these 
huiTicanes,  storms,  and  heavy  rains,  serve  the  purpose  of 
cooling  and  purifying  the  atmosphere,  which,  at  this  season, 
would  become  insupportable  but  for  this  circumstance.  The 
mercury  often  rises  to  one  hundred  degrees  of  Fahrenheit  in 
the  shade  The  water  does  not  rest  long  on  the  surface  of 
the  soil  It  is  absorbed  almost  as  it  falls,  on  account  of  the 
very  porous  character  of  the  earth  of  the  valley  and  its 
sandy  bottom.  Travellers,  in  camps  a little  removed  from 
the  river,  always  dig  wells;  the  water  is  everywhere  found 
at  a depth  of  two  or  three  feet  This  water,  though  cold 
and  clear,  must  be  unwholesome,  and  frequently  causes 
severe  sickness. 

Graves  abound  in  these  regions,  and  the  mortal  remains  of 
a vast  number  of  emigrants  repose  there.  With  these  emi- 
grants have  also  sunk  beneath  the  valley  of  the  Platte  that 
ardent  thirst  for  gold,  those  desires  and  ambitious  projects 
for  wealth,  greatness,  and  pleasures,  which  devour  them, 
and  drove  them  towards  the  distant  regions  of  California, 
Pike’s  Peak,  and  Frazer.  Death  met  them  far  from  their 
Penates,  and  they  are  buried  in  these  desert  strands.  How 
uncertain  are  the  affairs  of  this  world!  Man  makes  his 
plans ; he  builds  his  castles  in  the  air;  he  counts  upon  a 
future  which  does  not  belong  to  him;  he  proposes,  but  God 
disposes,  and  cuts  the  thread  of  life  in  the  midst  of  these 
vain  hopes 

“ The  mosi  remarkable  thing  that  I met  on  this  occasion  on 
the  highway  cf  the  prairies,  ordinarily  so  lonely,  were  the 
Hng  wagon  trains  engaged  in  transporting  to  Utah  provisions 


852 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  8MET,  8.  J. 


and  stores  of  war.  If  the  journals  of  the  day  may  be  be- 
lieved, these  cost  the  Government  fifteen  millions.  Each 
train  consisted  of  twenty-six  wagons,  each  wagon  drawn  by 
six  yoke  of  oxen,  and  containing  near  five  thousand  pounds. 
The  Quarter-master-general  made  the  calculation,  and  told 
me  that  the  whole  train  would  make  a line  of  about  fifty 
miles.  W e passed  every  day  some  wagons  of  this  immense 
train,  each  wagon  marked  with  a name  as  in  the  case  of  ships, 
and  these  names  served  to  furnish  amusement  to  the  passer- 
by; the  caprices  of  the  captains  in  this  respect  having  im- 
posed upon  the  wagons  such  names  as  the  Constitution,  the 
President,  the  Great  Republic,  the  King  of  Bavaria,  Lola 
Montes,  Louis  Napoleon,  Dan.  O'Connell,  Old  Kentucky 
etc.,  etc.  These  were  daubed  in  great  letters  on  each  side 
of  the  carriage.  On  the  plains,  the  wagoner  assumes  the 
style  of  captain,  being  placed  in  command  of  his  wagon  and 
twelve  oxen.  The  mas  ter- wagoner  is  admiral  of  this  little 
land-fleet.  He  has  control  of  26  captains  and  312  oxen.  At 
a distance,  the  white  awnings  of  the  wagons  have  the  effect 
of  a fleet  of  vessels  with  all  canvas  spread. 

“On  leaving  Leavenworth  the  drivers  look  well  enough, 
being  all  in  new  clothes,  but  as  they  advance  into  the  plains, 
their  good  clothes  become  travel-stained  and  torn,  and  at 
last  are  converted  into  rags.  The  captains  have  hardly  pro- 
ceeded two  hundred  miles,  before  their  trail  is  marked  with 
rags,  scattered  and  flying  along  the  route.  You  may  often 
remark  also  on  the  various  camping-grounds,  even  as  far  as 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  beyond,  the  wrecks  of  wagons 
and  the  skeletons  of  oxen,  but  especially  the  remains  of  the 
wardrobe  of  the  traveller — legs  of  iiantaloons  and  drawers,  a 
shirt-bosom,  the  back  or  the  arm  of  a fiannel  vest,  stockings 
out  at  toe  and  heel,  crownless  hats,  and  shoes  worn  through 
soles  or  uppers,  are  strewed  along  the  route. 

“ These  deserted  camps  are  also  marked  by  packs  of  cards 
strewn  around  among  broken  jars  and  bottles;  here  you 
see  a gridiron,  a coffee-pot,  or  a tin  bowl;  there  a cooking- 
stove  and  the  fragments  of  a shaving-dish,  all  worn  out  and 
cast  aside.  The  poor  Indians  regard  these  signs  of  encroach 


FATHER  PBTER  JOHN  HE  8MET.  S.  J.  853 

iag  civilization  with  an  unquiet  eye,  as  they  pass  them  on 
their  way.  These  rags  and  refuse  are  to  them  the  harbin- 
gers of  the  approach  of  a dismal  future  for  themselves ; they 
announce  to  them  that  the  plains  and  forests  over  whicn 
they  roam  in  the  chase,  their  beautiful  lakes  and  rivers 
swarming  with  fish,  and  the  repaii’  of  numerous  aquatia 
birds  ; the  hearth  which  witnessed  their  birth,  and  the  soil 
which  covers  the  ashes  of  their  fathers, — all,  in  fine,  that  is 
most  dear  to  them, — are  about  to  pass  into  the  hands  of  the 
rapacious  white  man.  And  they,  poor  mortals,  accustomed 
to  roam  at  large,  and  over  a vast  space,  free  like  the  birds 
of  the  air,  will  be  inclosed  in  narrow  reserves,  far  from  their 
cherished  hunting-grounds  and  fine  fisheries,  far  from  their 
fields  of  roots  and  fruits  ; or  driven  back  into  the  mountains 
or  to  unknown  shores.  It  is  not  surprising,  then,  that  the 
savage  seeks  sometimes  to  revenge  himself  on  the  white 
man ; it  is  rarely,  however,  that  he  is  the  aggressor : surely, 
not  once  out  of  ten  provoking  cases. 

“ The  wagons  are  formed  every  evening  into  a corral.  That 
is,  the  whole  twenty-six  are  ranged  in  a circle,  and  chained 
one  to  the  other,  so  as  to  leave  only  one  opening,  to  give 
passage  to  the  beasts,  which  past  the  night  in  the  centre, 
and  are  guarded  there  by  sevei-al  sentinels  under  arms. 
Under  the  protection  of  a small  number  of  determined  men, 
the  wagons  and  animals  are  secure  from  any  attack  of  un- 
disciplined Indians,  in  however  great  numbers.  When  the 
travellers  neglect  this  precaution,  and  camp  at  random,  not 
unfrequently  a hostile  band  of  Indians  will  provoke  what  is 
called  a stampede,  or  panic  among  the  cattle,  and  carry 
them  all  off  at  once.  The  travellers  go  into  camp  early, 
and  at  break  of  day  the  beasts  are  let  loose  in  the  prairie, 
that  they  may  have  plenty  of  time  to  graze.  Grass  is  very 
abundant  in  the  valley  of  the  Platte,  and  on  the  neighboring 
acclivities. 

“Between  Fort  Kearney  and  the  crossing  of  the  South 
Fork  of  the  Platte,  we  met  over  a hundred  families  of  Mor- 
mons, on  their  way  to  Kansas  and  Missouri,  with  the  inten- 
tion of  settling  there.  They  appeared  delighted  at  being 


854 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  S.  J. 


fortunate  enough  to  leave,  safe  and  sound,  the  famous 
promised  land  of  Utah  ; thanks  to  the  influence  of  the  new 
governor,  and  the  presence  of  the  United  States  troops. 
They  told  us  that  a great  number  of  other  families  would 
follow  them,  so  soon  as  they  should  be  capable  of  doing  so, 
and  of  procuring  the  necessary  means  for  the  journey. 

‘ ‘ They  confessed  that  they  would  have  escaped  long  before, 
had  they  not  been  afraid  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  the 
Uanites,  or  Destroying  Angels.  These  compose  the  body- 
guard of  the  Prophet ; they  are  said  to  be  entirely  and 
blindly  at  his  disposal,  to  carry  out  all  his  plans,  meet  all 
bis  wishes,  and  execute  all  his  measures,  which  often  in- 
volve robbery  and  murder.  Before  the  arrival  of  the  United 
States  soldiers,  woe  to  any  one  w^ho  manifested  a desire  to 
leave  Utah,  or  abandon  the  sect ; woe  to  him  who  dared  to 
raise  a voice  against  the  actions  of  the  Prophet — he  rarely 
escaped  the  poniards  of  these  Destroying  Angels,  or  rather 
incarnate  demons. 

“ The  highway  of  the  plains,  during  the  beautiful  season  of 
1858,  appeared,  as  it  were,  invadedby  an  unusual  and  joyous 
animation.  To  complete  the  idea  which  I have  just  given, 

I will  add  that  couriers  and  express  messengers,  coming  and 
returning,  constantly  crossed  each  other  on  the  road.  The 
different  companies  of  the  army  left  a space  of  two  or  three 
days’  journey  between  them. 

‘ ‘ Each  company  was  followed  by  ambulances  for  the  use  of 
the  superior  oflicers,  a body  of  artillery  and  engineers,  and 
a train  of  wagons,  with  six  mules  each,  transporting  provis- 
ions and  baggage.  Each  company  was  followed  also  by  an 
immense  drove  of  six  or  seven  hundred  horned  cattle,  to 
furnish  their  daily  food.  Uncle  Sam,  as  the  Grovernment  of 
the  United  States  is  called,  has  a truly  paternal  heart ; he 
provides  abundantly  for  the  wants  of  the  defenders  of  the 
country,  and  will  not  suffer  them  to  want  their  comforts. 

“Every  thing  was  going  on  admirably  and  in  good  order. 
The  commanding  general  and  staff  were  already  at  the 
crossing  of  the  south  branch  of  the  Platte^  480  miles  from 
Fort  Leavenworth,  when  he  received  the  news  that  the  Mor- 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SHET,  S.  J. 


855 


mons  had  submitted,  or  laid  down  their  anns,  and  at  the 
same  time,  an  order  to  distribute  his  troops  to  other  points, 
and  return  to  the  United  States.  This  also  changed  my  des- 
tination ; the  conclusion  of  peace  put  an  end  to  my  httle 
diplomatic  mission  to  the  Indian  tribes  of  Utah.  I con- 
sulted with  the  general,  and  accompanied  him  on  his  return 
to  Leavenworth. 

“The  South  Fork  of  the  Platte,  at  the  crossing,  is  2,045  feet 
wide.  In  the  month  of  July,  its  depth  is  generally  about 
three  feet ; after  the  junction  of  the  two  forks,  the  width  is 
atx)ut  3,000  yards.  The  bottom,  throughout  the  whole 
length,  is  sandy. 

“I  could  say  much,  dear  Father,  about  the  country  be- 
tween Leavenworth  and  the  South  Pass  of  the  Platte,  its 
botanical  and  other  properties  and  productions,  but  I have 
spoken  of  these  on  many  occasions  in  my  letters  describing 
other  j'ourneys  across  this  region.  The  little  incidents  men- 
tioned in  this  letter  are  aU  connected  with  my  last  trip. 

“ Before  leaving  Fort  Leavenworth  for  St.  Louis,  I made 
a little  excursion  of  seventy  miles  to  visit  our  dear  Fathers 
and  Brothers  oi  the  Mission  of  St.  Mary  among  the  Potta- 
watomies.  I at  last  reached  St.  Louis  in  the  beginning  of 
September,  after  a first  absence  of  about  three  months,  and 
after  a journey,  to  and  fro,  of  1,976  miles.  My  stay  in  St. 
Louis  was  short..  I will,  in  my  next  letter,  give  you  details, 
which  will  inform  you  as  to  to  the  particulars  of  the  long 
expedition  of  which  I speak  in  the  first  part  of  this  letter. 

“Receive,  reverend  and  dear  Father,  the  expression  of 
those  sentiments  of  respect  and  affection  which  you  know  I 
entertain  for  you,  and  let  me  recommend  myself  very  spe- 
cially to  your  holy  sacrifices  and  good  prayers. 

“ Your  Reverence’s  servant  in  Christ, 

“P.  J.  De  Smet,  S.  J.’* 


CHAPTER  m. 


NEW  SIGHTS  AND  SCENES. 

At  the  Isthmus  of  Panama— San  Francisco— Fort  Yan- 
comer — The  great  hlacJcgown  among  the  Indians — Re- 
newing a treaty  of  peace — Forest  scenes — Father  Point  s 
crosses — Listening  to  hears  and  wolves  at  night. 

\Y e now  give,  as  a chapter  in  itself,  another  letter  from 
the  gifted  pen  of  the  great  blackgown.  It  is  a continuation 
of  the  foregoing  narrative : 

“ St.  Louis,  Nov.  10,  1859. 

“ Reverend  and  Dear  Father,— In  accordance  with  my 
promise,  I resume  the  little  story  of  my  long  voyage.  On 
my  return  to  St.  Louis,  I tendered  to  the  Minister  of  War  my 
resignation  of  the  post  of  chaplain.  It  was  not  accepted, 
because  a new  war  had  just  broken  out  against  the  Govern- 
ment, among  the  tribes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  I was 
notified  by  telegraph  to  proceed  to  New  York,  and  to  em- 
bark there  with  General  Harney  and  his  staff. 

“On  the  20th  of  September,  1858,  we  left  the  port  of  New 
York  for  Aspinwall ; it  was  the  season  of  the  equinox,  so 
that  we  experienced  some  rough  weather  on  the  voyage,  and 
a heavy  wind  among  the  Bahamas.  We  coasted  for  some 
time  along  the  eastern  shore  of  Cuba,  in  sight  of  the  prom- 
ontories of  St.  Domingo  and  Jamaica.  On  the  29th  I 
crossed  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  on  a good  railroad,  forty- 
seven  miles  long.* 

“The  next  day  I had  the  happiness  to  offer  the  Holy  Sacri- 
fice of  the  Mass  in  the  Cathedral  of  Panama.  The  Bishop 
very  earnestly  entreated  me  to  use  my  influence  with  the 

• The  reader  will  recall  in  what  manner  the  heroic  Balboa  crossed  the  same  Isthmus,  three  ce» 
tories  and  a half  before. 

856 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMBT,  S.  J. 


857 


Very  Reverend  Father  General  at  Rome,  to  obtain  for  him 
a colony  of  Jesuits.  His  Lordship  especially  expressed  his 
earnest  desire  to  intrust  his  ecclesiastical  seminary  to  the 
care  of  the  Society  of  Jesus.  New  Granada,  as  well  as 
many  other  regions  of  Spanish  South  America,  offers, 
doubtless,  a vast  field  to  the  zea,!  of  a large  number  of  our 
Fathers. 

“ The  distance  from  Panama  to  San  Francisco  is  more  than 
three  thousand  miles.  The  steamer  brought  to  in  the  superb 
bay  of  Acapulco  to  receive  the  mails,  and  to  coal  and 
water.  This  is  a little  port  of  Mexico.  On  the  evening  of 
the  16th  of  October,  I arrived  at  San  Francisco,  happy  to 
find  myself  in  a house  of  the  Society,  and  in  the  company 
of  many  of  my  brethren  in  Jesus  Christ,  who  loaded  me 
with  kindness,  and  all  the  attention  of  the  most  cordial 
charity. 

“The  ‘ quam  bonum  etjucundum  Tiabitare fratresinun- 
urn'’’  is  especially  appreciated,  when  one  leaves  a California 
steamer  in  which  one  has  been  imprisoned,  sometimes  with 
fourteen  or  fifteen  hundred  individuals,  all  laboring  under  the 
gold  fever,  and  who  think  and  speak  of  nothing  but  mines  of 
gold,  and  all  the  terrestrial  delights  which  this  gold  is 
shortly  to  procure  them.  However,  the  ‘ shortly’  is  long 
enough  to  allow  of  the  destruction  or  disappearance  of 
many  an  illusion.  ‘All  that  glitters  is  not  gold.’ 

“We  left  San  Francisco  on  the  20th,  and  in  a few  days 
made  more  than  one  thousand  miles  to  Fort  Vancouver,  on 
the  Columbia  river.  The  news  of  the  cessation  of  hostilities, 
and  of  the  submission  of  the  tribes,  had  been  received  at 
Vancouver.  The  task  remained  of  removing  the  Indian  pre- 
judices, soothing  their  inquietude  and  alarm,  and  correcting, 
or  rather  refuting,  the  false  rumors  which  are  generally 
spread  after  a war,  and  which,  otherwise,  might  be  the  cause 
of  its  renewal. 

“Under  the  orders  of  the  general  commanding-in-chief,  I left 
Fort  Vancouver  on  the  29th  of  October,  to  go  among  th® 
tribes  of  the  mountains,  at  a distance  of  about  eight  hundred 
miles.  I visited  the  Catholic  soldiers  of  Forts  Dalle  City 


858 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SHET,  S.  J. 


and  Walla-'Walla  on  my  way  the  last-named  fort,  I had 
the  consolation  of  meeting  Rev.  F.  Congiato,  on  his  re- 
turn from  his  visit  to  the  missions,  and  of  receiving  very 
cheering  news  from  him  as  to  the  disposition  of  the  In- 
dians. 

“ At  my  request,  the  excellent  commandant  of  the  fort  had 
the  very  great  kindness  to  set  at  liberty  all  the  prisoners  and 
hostages,  both  Coeur-d’Alenes  and  Spokane,  and  he  intrusted 
to  my  charge  to  bring  them  on  their  way,  and  return  them 
to  their  respective  nations.  These  good  Indians,  particularly 
the  Coeur-d’Alenes,  had  given  the  greatest  edification  to  the 
soldiers  during  their  captivity  These  men  often  approached 
them  with  admiration,  in  witnessing  tne  performance  of  their 
pious  exercises,  morning  and  evening,  and  in  listening  to 
their  prayers  and  hymns.  During  the  whole  journey,  these 
good  Indians  testified  the  utmost  gratitude  to  me,  and  their 
punctual  performance  of  their  religious  duties  was  a source 
of  great  consolation  and  happiness  to  me. 

“On  the  21st  of  November  I arrived  at  the  Mission  of  the 
Sacred  Heart,  among  the  Coeur-d’Alenes.  I was  detained 
at  the  mission  by  the  snow  until  the  18th  of  Feburary, 
1859.  During  this  interval  snow  fell,  with  more  or  less 
abundance,  for  forty -three  days  and  nights,  on  seven  days 
it  rained,  we  had  twenty-one  cloudy  days,  and  sixteen 
days  of  clear  and  cold  weather.  I left  the  mission  on 
the  18th  of  Feburary,  with  the  Rev.  Father  Joset,  who 
accompanied  me  until  we  met  Father  Hoecken,  who 
had  promised  to  meet  us  on  Clarke’s  River. 

“The  ice,  snow,  rain,  and  winds  impeded  very  much  our 
course,  in  our  frail  canoes  of  bark,  on  the  rivers  and  great 
lakes.  We  often  ran  considerable  risk  in  crossing  rapids  and 
falls,  of  which  Clarke’s  River  is  full.  I counted  thirty-four 
of  these  in  seventy-five  miles.  We  met  with  several  camps  of 
Indians  in  winter-quarters  on  every  side.  On  the  approach 
of  the  winter  season,  they  are  obliged  to  scatter  in  the 
forests,  and  along  the  lakes  and  rivers,  where  they  live  by 
the  chase  and  fishing.  They  received  us  everywhere  with  the 
greatest  kindness,  and,  notwithstanding  their  extreme  pov- 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  S.  J. 


869 


erty,  willingly  shared  with  us  their  small  rations  and  meagre 
provisions.  They  eagerly  embraced  the  occasion  to  attend 
to  their  religious  duties  and  other  exercises  of  piety;  attend- 
ing  at  the  instructions  with  great  attention,  and  with  much 
zeal  and  favor  at  Mass,  and  at  morning  and  evening 
prayers.  On  the  11th  of  March  we  arrived  at  the  Mission  of 
St.  Ignatius,  among  the  Pends-d’Oreilles  of  the  mountains. 

‘ ‘ The  Koetenay  s,  a neighboring  tribe  to  the  Pends-d’  Oreilles, 
having  heard  of  my  arrival,  had  travelled  many  days’  jour- 
ney through  the  snow  to  shake  hands  with  me,  to  bid  me 
welcome,  and  manifest  their  filial  affection.  In  1845  I had 
made  some  stay  with  them.  I was  the  first  priest  w^ho  had 
announced  to  them  the  glad  tidings  of  salvation,  and  I had 
baptised  aU  their  little  children  and  a large  number  of 
adults.  They  came  on  this  occasion,  with  a primitive  sim- 
plicity, to  assure  me  that  they  had  remained  faithful  to 
prayer,  that  is,  to  religion,  and  aU  the  good  advice  that 
they  had  received. 

“All  the  Fathers  spoke  to  me  of  these  good  Koetenay  s in 
the  highest  terms.  Fraternal  union,  evangelic  simplicity, 
innocence,  and  peace,  still  reign  among  them  in  full  vigor. 
Their  honesty  is  so  great  and  so  well-known,  that  the  trader 
leaves  his  store-house  entirely,  the  door  remaining  unlocked 
often,  during  his  absence,  for  weeks.  The  Indians  go  in 
and  out,  and  help  themselves  to  w^hat  they  need,  and  settle 
with  the  trader  on  his  return.  He  assured  me  himself,  that 
in  doing  business  with  them  in  this  style  he  never  lost  the 
value  of  a pin, 

“On  the  18th  of  March  I crossed  deep  snow  a distance  of 
seventy  miles,  to  St.  Mary’s  valley,  to  revisit  my  first  and 
ancient  spiritual  children  of  the  mountains,  the  poor  and 
abandoned  Flatheads.  They  were  greatly  consoled  on 
learning  that  Very  Rev.  Father  General  had  the  intention  of 
causing  the  mission  to  be  undertaken  again.  The  principal 
chiefs  assured  me  that  since  the  departure  of  the  Fathers, 
they  had  continued  to  assemble  morning  and  evening  for 
prayers,  to  nng  the  Angelus  at  the  accustomed  hour,  and  to 
rest  on  Sunday,  to  glorify  the  holy  day  of  our  Lord.  I will 


860  FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  8MET,  8.  J. 

not  enter  into  long  details  here  as  to  the  present  dispos’- 
tions  of  this  little  tribe,  for  fear  of  being  too  long. 

“Doubtless,  in  the  absence  of  the  missionaries,  the  enemy 
of  souls  has  committed  some  ravages  among  them,  but, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  the  evil  is  not  irreparable.  Their 
daily  practices  of  piety,  and  the  conferences  I held  with 
them  during  several  days,  have  given  me  the  consoling 
conviction  that  the  faith  is  still  maintained  among  the 
Flatheads,  and  still  brings  forth  fruits  of  salvation  among 
them, — their  greatest  chieftains,  Michael,  Adolphe,  Am- 
brose, Moses,  and  others,  are  true  and  zealous  Christians, 
and  real  piety  in  religion  and  true  valor  at  war  are  united 
in  them. 

“ In  my  several  visits  to  the  stations  in  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, I was  received  by  the  Indians  with  every  demons- 
tration of  sincere  and  filial  joy.  I think  I may  say,  that 
my  presence  among  them  has  been  of  some  advantage  to 
them,  both  in  a religious  and  secular  point  of  view.  I 
did  my  best  to  encourage  them  to  persevere  in  piety,  and 
maintain  the  conditions  of  the  treaty  of  peace  with  the 
Government.  In  these  visits  I had  the  happiness  to  bap- 
tize over  a hundred  infants,  and  a large  number  of 
adults. 

“ On  the  16th  of  April, in  accordance  with  the  orders  of  the 
commander-in-chief  of  the  army,  I went  to  Fort  Vancouver, 
and  left  the  Mission  of  St.  Ignatius.  At  my  request,  all 
the  chiefs  of  the  different  mountain  tribes  accompanied  me 
to  renew  the  treaty  of  peace  with  the  general  and  with 
superintendent  of  Indian  affairs.  I give  their  names,  and 
the  nations  to  which  they  belong : Alexander  Tem- 
glagketzin^  or  the  Man-without-a-horse,  great  chief  of  the 
Pends-d’Oreilles  ; Victor  Alamiken,  or  the  Happy-man  (he 
deserves  his  name,  for  he  is  a saintly  man),  great  chief  of 
the  Kalispels  ; Adolphus  Kwilkweschape,  or  Red-feather, 
.chief  of  the  Flatheads  ; Francis  Saya,  or  the  Iroquois,  an- 
'other  Flathead  chief;  Dennis  Zenemtietze,  or  the  Thunders- 
‘robe,  chief  of  the  Schuyelpi  or  Chaudieres  ; Andrew  and 
fBonaventure,  chiefs  and  braves  among  the  Coeur-d’Alenes. 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  8.  J.  861 

or  Skizoumish  ; KamiaJcin,  great  chief  of  the  Yacomans  j 
and  Gerry,  great  chief  of  the  Spokans.  The  last  two  are 
still  pagans,  though  their  children  have  been  baptized. 

“ We  suffered  much,  and  ran  many  dangers  on  the  route,  on 
account  of  the  high  state  of  the  rivers  and  the  heavy  snow. 
For  three  days  we  had  to  clear  a way  through  thick  forests, 
where  thousands  of  trees,  thrown  down  by  storms,  lay 
across  one  another,  and  were  covered,  four,  six,  and  eight 
feet,  with  snow ; several  horses  perished  in  this  danger- 
ous passage.  My  horse  stumbled  many  a time,  and  procured 
me  many  a fall;  but  aside  from  some  serious  bruises  and 
scratches,  a hat  battered  to  pieces,  a torn  pair  of  trowsers, 
and  a soutane  or  blackgown  in  rags,  I came  out  of  it  safe 
and  sound.  I measured  white  cedars  in  the  wood,  which 
were  as  much  as  six  or  seven  persons  could  clasp  at  the 
base,  and  of  proportionate  height.  After  a month’s  journey, 
we  arrived  at  Fort  Yancouver. 

“ On  the  18th  of  May  the  interview  took  place  with  the 
general,  the  superintendent,  and  the  Indian  chiefs.  It 
produced  most  happy  results  on  both  sides.  About  three 
weeks’  time  was  accorded  to  the  chiefs  to  visit,  at  the  cost 
of  Government,  the  principal  cities  and  towns  of  the  State 
of  Oregon  and  Washington  Territory,  with  everything  re- 
markable in  the  way  of  industrial  establishments,  steam- 
engines,  forges,  manufactories,  and  printing  establishments, 
— of  all  which  the  poor  Indians  can  make  nothing  or  very 
little.  The  visit  which  appeared  the  most  to  interest  the 
chiefs  was  that  which  they  made  to  the  prison  at  Portland, 
and  its  wretched  inmates,  whom  they  found  chained  within 
its  cells.  They  were  particularly  interested  in  the  causes, 
motives,  and  dnr  ition  of  their  imprisonment ; Chief  Alex- 
ander kept  it  in  his  mind.  Immediately  on  his  return  to  his 
camp  at  St.  Ignatius  Mission,  he  assembled  his  people,  and 
related  to  them  all  the  wonders  of  the  whites,  and  especially 
the  history  of  the  prison.  ‘We,’  said  he,  ‘have  neither 
chains  nor  prisons;  and  for  want  of  them,  no  doubt,  a great 
number  of  us  are  wicked  and  have  deaf  ears.  As  chief,  1 
am  determined  to  do  my  duty.  I shall  take  a whip  to  punish 


862 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMEl,  S.  J. 


the  wicked;  let  all  those  who  have  been  guilty  of  any  mis- 
demeanor present  themselves,  I am  ready.”  The  known 
guilty  parties  were  called  upon  by  name,  many  presented 
themselves  of  their  own  accord,  and  all  received  a propor- 
tionate correction ! 

“ Before  leaving  the  parts  of  civilization,  all  the  chiefs  re- 
ceived presents  from  the  general  and  superintendent,  and 
returned  to  their  own  country,  contented  and  happ}*,  and 
well  determined  to  keep  at  peace  with  the  whites.  As  for 
me,  I had  accomplished  among  the  Indians  the  task  which 
the  Grovernment  had  imposed  upon  me.  I explained  to  the 
general  my  motives  for  desiring  to  return  to  St.  Louis  by 
way  of  the  interior.  He  acceded  to  my  desire  with  the 
greatest  affability,  and  in  the  answer  which  he  addressed  to 
me  on  this  matter,  he  bore  most  honorable  testimony  to  my 
services. 

“About  the  15th  of  June,  I again  left  Vancouver,  with  the 
chiefs,  to  return  to  the  mountains.  I passed  the  7th,  8th, 
and  9th  of  July  at  the  Mission  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  among 
the  Coeur-d’Alenes.  Thence,  I continued  my  route  for  St. 
Ignatius,  with  Father  Congiato,  and  completed  the  trip  in  a 
week ; not,  however,  without  many  privations,  which  de- 
serve a short  mention  here. 

“Imagine  thick,  untrodden  forests,  strewn  with  thousands 
of  trees,  thrown  down  by  age  and  storms,  in  every  direction  ; 
where  the  path  is  scarcely  visible,  and  is  obstructed  by  bar- 
ricades, which  the  horses  are  constantly  compelled  to  leap, 
and  which  always  endanger  the  riders.  Two  fine  rivers,  or 
rather,  great  torrents, — the  Coeur-d’Alene  and  St.  Francis 
Borgia, — traverse  these  forests  in  a most  winding  course ; 
their  beds  are  formed  of  enormous  detached  masses  of 
rock,  and  large  slippery  stones,  rounded  by  the  action  of 
the  water.  The  first  of  these  torrents  is  crossed  thirty-nine 
times,  and  the  second  thirty-two  times,  by  the  only  path ; 
the  water  often  comes  to  the  horse’s  belly,  and  sometimes 
above  the  saddle.  It  is  considered  good  luck  to  escape  with 
only  the  legs  wet. 

“The  two  rivers  are  separated  by  a high  mountain,  of 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  S.  J. 


86a 


rather  a chain  of  mountains,  called  the  Bitter-root  chain. 
The  sides  of  these  mountains,  covered  with  thick  cedar 
forests,  and  an  immense  variety  of  firs  and  pines,  present 
great  diflBculties  to  the  traveller,  on  account  of  the  great 
number  of  trees  which  lie  broken  and  fallen  across  the  path, 
and  completely  cover  the  soil.  To  these  obstacles  must  be 
added  immense  fields  of  snow^  which  have  to  be  crossed, 
and  which  are  at  times  from  eight  to  twelve  feet  deep. 
After  eight  hours’  painful  march,  we  arrived  at  a beautiful 
plain,  enamelled  with  flowers,  which  formed  the  summit  of 
Mount  Calvary,  where  a cross  was  raised  on  my  first  pas- 
sage, sixteen  years  ago. 

“In  this  beautiful  situation,  after  so  long  and  rude  a 
course,  I desired  to  encamp ; but  Father  Congiato,  per- 
suaded that  in  two  hours  more  we  should  reach  the  foot  of 
the  mountain,  induced  us  to  continue  the  march.  When 
we  had  made  the  six  miles  which  we  supposed  we  had  be- 
fore us,  and  twelve  miles  more,  darkness  overtook  us  in  the 
midst  of  difficulties.  On  the  eastern  side  of  the  mountain 
we  found  other  hills  of  snow  to  cross,  other  barricades  of 
fallen  trees  to  scramble  over ; sometimes  we  were  on  the 
edge  of  sheer  precipices  of  rock,  sometimes  on  a slope  al- 
most perpendicular.  The  least  false  step  might  precipitate 
us  into  the  abyss.  Without  guide, -without  path,  in  the 
most  profound  darkness,  separated  one  from  the  other,  each 
calling  for  help  without  being  able  either  to  give  or  to  ob- 
tain the  least  assistance,  we  fell  again  and  again,  we  walked, 
feeling  our  way  with  our  hands,  or  crawled  on  all- fours, 
slipping  or  sliding  down  as  best  we  could. 

“At  last  a gleam  of  hope  arose;  we  heard  the  hoarse 
murmur  of  water  in  the  distance.  It  was  the  sound  of  the 
waterfalls  of  the  great  stream  which  we  were  seeking.  Each 
one  then  directed  his  course  towards  that  point.  We  all 
had  the  good  fortune  to  arrive  at  the  stream  at  last,  but 
one  after  another,  between  twelve  and  one  o’clock  in  the 
night,  after  a march  of  sixteen  hours,  fatigued  and  ex- 
hausted, our  dresses  torn  to  rags,  and  covered  with  scratches 
and  bruises,  but  without  serious  injuries.  While  eating  our 


864 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  8MET,  S.  J. 


supper,  each  one  amused  his  companions  with  the  history 
of  his  mishaps.  Good  Father  Congiato  admitted  that  he 
had  made  a mistake  in  his  calculation,  and  was  the  first  to 
laugh  heartily  at  his  blunder.  Our  poor  horses  found  noth- 
ing to  eat  all  night  in  this  miserable  mountain  gap. 

“ I cannot  omit  here  testifying  my  indebtedness  to  all  the 
Fathers  and  Brothers  of  the  Missions  of  the  Sacred  Heart 
and  of  St.  Ignatius,  for  their  truly  fraternal  charity  towards 
me,  and  the  efficacious  aid  which  they  rendered  me  towards 
fulfilling  the  special  mission  which  had  been  intrusted  to 
me. 

“ As  Father  Congiato  keeps  the  Very  Reverend  Father  Gen- 
eral informed  of  the  actual  state  of  the  missions  of  the 
mountains,  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  enter  into  aU  its 
details.  I recommend,  especially,  these  poor  children  of 
the  desert  to  his  paternal  attention  and  charity,  and  to  our 
immediate  superiors  in  this  country. 

“Divine  Providence  will  not,  I hope,  abandon  them.  They 
have  already  a great  nnmber  of  intercessors  in  heaven,  in 
the  thousands  of  their  children,  dead  shortly  after  baptism, 
in  the  number  of  good  Christian  adults  among  them,  who, 
having  led  good  lives,  have  quitted  this  world  in  the  most 
pious  dispositions  ; they  can  especially  count  upon  the  pro- 
tection of  Louise,  of  the  tribe  of  Coeur-d’ Alenes,  and  of 
Loyola,  chief  of  the  Kalispels,  whose  lives  were  an  uninter- 
rupted series  of  acts  of  heroic  virtue,  and  who  died  almost 
in  the  odor  of  sanctity. 

“On  the  22d  of  July,  I left  the  Mission  of  St.  Ignatius,  ac- 
companied by  Father  Congiato,  with  some  guides  and  Indian 
hunters.  The  distance  to  Fort  Benton  is  about  two  hund- 
red miles.  The  country,  for  the  first  four  days,  is  pictu- 
resque, and  presents  no  obstacle  to  travelling.  It  is  a suc- 
cession of  forests  easily  traversed,  of  beautiful  prairies,  im- 
petuous torrents,  pretty  rivulets  ; here  and  there  are  lakes, 
from  three  to  six  miles  in  circumference,  whose  waters  are 
clear  as  crystal,  well  stored  with  fish  of  various  kinds  ; 
nothing  can  be  more  charming  than  the  prospect.  We  called 
one  of  the  largest  of  these  lakes,  St.  Mary. 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  8MET,  S.  J.  8C/5 

^‘On  the  26th  of  July  we  crossed  the  mountain  which  separ- 
ates the  sources  of  the  Clarke  River  from  those  of  the  Mis- 
souri, at  the  48th  degree  of  north  latitude  and  the  115th  of 
longitude.  The  crossing  does  not  take  more  than  a half  an 
hour,  and  is  very  easy,  even  for  wagons  and  carts.  At  the 
eastern  base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  the  plains  are  moun- 
tainous, and  almost  destitute  of  timber ; we  crossed  several 
small  streams  before  we  reached  the  Sun  River,  and  followed 
down  its  valley  almost  to  its  mouth.  We  visited  the  great 
falls  of  the  Missouri  on  our  way.  The  principal  fall  is 
ninety- three  feet  high. 

“ Father  Hoecken  and  Brother  Magri  met  us  in  this  vicinity. 
On  the  29th  we  arrived  at  Fort  Benton,  a post  of  the  St.  Louis 
Fur  Company,  where  we  received  the  greatest  attention 
from  all  its  inmates ; we  feel  particularly  obliged  to  Mr. 
Dorson,  the  superintendent  of  the  fort,  for  his  continued 
kindness  and  charity  to  all  our  missionaries.  May  the  Lord 
protect  and  reward  him ! The  Blackfeet  occupy  an  immense 
territory  in  this  neighborhood ; they  reckon  from  ten  to 
twelve  thousand  souls  in  the  six  tribes  which  compose  this 
nation.  They  have  been  asking  for  blackgowns  (priests) 
for  many  years,  and  their  desire  appears  universal.  In  my 
visit  to  them  in  1846,  they  begged  me  to  send  a Father  to 
instruct  them. 

“Father  Hoecken  is  now  in  these  parts,  and  I have  just 
read  -with  the  greatest  pleasui-e,  in  the  ‘ Annals  of  the  Pro- 
pagation of  the  Faith,’  that  the  work  of  the  conversion  of 
the  Blackfeet  has  been  commenced,  with  the  entire  approba- 
tion of  the  Very  Reverend  Father  General. 

‘ ‘ On  our  arrival  in  the  neighborhood,  we  found  a large  num- 
ber of  Indians  encamped  around  and  near  the  fort.  It  was 
the  period  for  the  annual  distribution  of  presents.  They 
manifested  their  joy  at  the  presence  of  a missionary  in 
their  country,  and  hoped  that  ‘all  would  open  to  him 
their  ears  and  heart.’  The  chief  of  a large  camp,  in  one 
of  our  visits,  related  to  us  a remarkable  circumstance,  which 
I think  worthy  of  mention. 

“ When  Father  Point  was  among  the  Blackfeet,  he  pre- 


866  FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  S.  J. 

sented  some  crosses  to  many  chiefs  as  marks  of  distinction, 
and  explained  to  them  their  signification,  exhorting  them, 
when  in  danger,  to  invoke  the  Son  of  God,  whose  image 
they  bore,  and  to  place  all  their  confidence  in  him.  The 
chief  who  related  these  details  -was  one  of  a band  of  thirty 
Indians  who  went  to  war  against  the  Crows. 

“The  Crows  having  got  upon  their  trail,  gathered  together 
in  haste  and  in  great  multitudes  to  fight  and  destroy  them. 
They  soon  came  up  with  them  in  a position  of  the  forest, 
where  they  had  made  a barricade  of  fallen  trees  and 
branches,  and  surrounded  them,  shouting  ferociously  the 
dreaded  war-cry.  The  Blackfeet,  considering  the  superior 
numbers  of  the  enemy  who  thnis  surprised  them,  were  firmly 
persuaded  that  they  should  perish  at  their  hands.  One  of 
them  bore  on  his  breast  the  sign  of  salvation.  He  remem- 
bered the  words  of  the  blackgown  (Father  Point),  and  re- 
minded his  companions  of  them  ; all  shouted,  ‘ It  is  our 
only  chance  of  safety.’  They  then  invoked  the  Son  of  God. 
and  rushed  from  the  barricade. 

“The  bearer  of  the  cross,  holding  it  up  in  his  hand,  led  the 
way,  followed  by  all  the  rest.  The  Crows  discharged  a 
shower  of  arrows  and  bullets  at  them,  but  no  one  was  seri- 
ously injured;  they  all  happily  escaped.  On  concluding 
his  statement,  the  chief  added,  with  energy  and  feeling: 
‘ Yes,  the  prayer  (religion)  of  the  Son  of  God  is  the  only 
good  and  powerful  one  ; we  all  desire  to  become  worthy  of 
it,  and  to  adopt  it.’ 

“My  intention,  when  I left  General  Harney,  was,  with 
his  consent,  to  go  all  the  way  to  St.  Louis  on  horseback,  in 
the  hope  of  meeting  a large  number  of  Indian  tribes,  espe- 
cially the  large  and  powerful  tribe  of  Comanches.  I was 
obliged  to  renounce  this  project,  for  my  six  horses  were  en- 
tirely worn  out,  and  unfit  for  making  so  long  a journey ; 
they  were  all  more  or  less  saddle -galled,  and,  not  being 
shod,  their  hoofs  were  worn  in  crossing  the  rocky  bottoms 
of  the  rivers,  and  the  rough,  rocky,  mountain  roads. 

“In  this  difficulty,  I ordered  a little  skiff  to  be  made  at 
Fort  Benton ; worthy  Mr.  Dorson,  superintendent  of  the 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  8.  J. 


867 


Fur  Company,  had  the  very  great  kindness  to  procure  me 
three  oarsmen  and  a pilot.  On  the  5th  of  August  I bade 
adieu  to  Fathers  Congiato  and  Hoecken,  and  dear  Brother 
Magri,  and  embarked  on  the  Missouri,  which  is  celebrated 
for  dangers  of  navigation — snags  and  rapids  being  numerous 
in  the  upper  river. 

“We  descended  the  stream  about  2,400  miles  in  our 
cockle-shell,  making  fifty,  sixty,  and  sometimes,  vrhen  the 
wind  favored  us,  eighty  miles  a day.  We  took  the  first 
steamboat  we  met,  at  Omaha  City.  The  steamer  made 
about  700  miles  in  six  days,  and  on  the  23d  of  September, 
vigil  of  Our  Lady  of  Mercy,  we  entered  the  port  ot  St.  Louis. 

“ During  this  long  trip  on  the  river  we  passed  the  nights  in 
the  open  air,  or  under  a little  tent,  often  on  sandbanks,  to 
avoid  the  troublesome  mosquitoes,  or  on  the  skirts  of  a 
plain,  or  in  an  untrodden,  thick  forest.  We  often  heard  the 
howlings  of  the  wolves ; and  the  grunting  of  the  grizzly 
^>ear,  the  king  of  animals  in  these  parts,  disturbed  our 
sleep,  but  without  alarming  us.  In  the  desert  one  perceives 
that  Grod  has  implanted  in  the  breast  of  the  wild  beasts  the 
fear  of  man.  In  the  desert,  also,  we  are  enabled,  in  a par- 
ticular way,  to  admire  and  to  thank  that  Divine  Providence 
which  watches  with  so  much  solicitude  over  his  children. 

“There,  is  admirably  verified  the  text  of  St.  Matthew: 

‘ Consider  the  birds  of  the  air,  they  sow  not,  but  your 
Heavenly  Father  feeds  them ; are  ye  not  of  much  more 
value  tkaii  they  ?’  During  the  whole  route,  our  wants  were 
constantly  supplied ; yes,  we  lived  in  the  midst  of  the 
greatest  abundance.  The  rivers  furnished  us  excellent  fish, 
water-fowl,  ducks,  geese,  and  swans  ; the  forests  and  plains 
gave  us  fruits  and  roots.  We  never  wanted  for  game.  We 
found  everywhere  either  immense  herds  of  buffaloes,  or  deer, 
antelope,  mountain  sheep,  or  big-horns,  pheasants,  wild  tur- 
keys, and  partridges. 

“On  the  way,  along  the  Missouri,  I met  thousands  of 
Indians  of  different  tribes — Crows,  Assiniboins,  Minataries, 
Mandans,  Rickaries,  Sioux,  etc.  I always  stopped  a day  ot 
two  with  them.  I received  the  greatest  marks  of  respect 


868 


FATHEB  PETER  JOHN  BE  8}SET,  S. 


and  affection  from  these  hitherto  untutored  children  of  the 
plains  and  mountains,  and  they  listened  to  my  words  with 
the  utmost  attention.  For  many  years  these  poor  tribes 
have  desired  to  have  missionaries,  and  to  be  instructed. 

“My  greatest,  I may  say,  almost  my  only  consolation,  is  to 
have  been  the  instrument,  in  the  hand  of  Divine  Providence, 
of  the  eternal  salvation  of  a great  number  of  little  children  ; 
of  about  nine  hundred  I baptized,  many  were  sickly,  and 
seemed  only  to  wait  for  this  happiness,  to  fly  to  God  to 
praise  Him  for  all  eternity. 

“ To  God  alone  be  all  the  glory  ; and  to  the  Blessed  Virgin 
Mary,  our  most  humble  and  most  profound  thanks  for  the 
protection  and  benefits  received  during  this  long  journey. 
After  having  travelled,  by  land  and  river,  over  8,314  miles, 
and  6,950  on  sea,  without  any  serious  accident,  I arrived 
safe  and  sound  at  St.  Louis,  am^ng  my  dear  brethren  in 
Jesus  Christ.  I am,  with  the  most  sincere  respect, 

” Vour  servant  in  Christ, 

"P.  J.  De  a.  j,» 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  SUNSET  OF  LIFE. 

The  Catholic  Faith  and  the  Indian — The  Skalzi  tribe — 
Their  virtues — Their  country — The  tobacco  plain — The 
Flatbow  river — Agricidture — Honesty — Anecdote  of  an 
old  chief — A young  warrior  and  his  bride — A little  In- 
dian church — The  missionary  and  the  Indians — Old 
Chief  Michael — Honors  to  Father  He  Smet  on  his  last 
visit  to  Europe — A sad  accident — Heath  of  Father  He 
^et — The  magnitude  of  his  work '■'‘ad  majorem  Hei 
gloriamt* 

The  magic  influence  of  the  Catholic  religion  in  transform- 
ing the  Indian  is  as  remarkable  in  our  own  time  as  it  was  in 
the  days  of  Brebeuf  and  Marquette.  Many  of  the  tribes  con- 
verted by  Father  Be  Smet  and  his  apostolic  companions  be- 
came model  Christians.  We  have  room  to  recount  but  one 
instance — the  Skalzi  Indians. 

Speaking  of  this  tribe,  the  illustrious  blackgown  writes,  in 
1861 : “I  visited  these  good  savages,  for  the  first  time,  in 
the  summer  of  1845,  on  which  occasion  I had  the  happiness 
to  regenerate  all  their  little  children  in  the  holy  waters  of 
Baptism,  as  well  as  a large  number  of  adults.  I saw  these 
dear  children  again  in  1859  ; and  the  visit  filled  me  with  in- 
expressible joy,  because  they  had  remained  faithful,  true  to 
the  Faith,  and  fervent  and  zealous  Christians. 

“They  were  the  consolation  of  the  missionaries,  and  shone 
conspicuous  by  their  virtues  among  the  tribes  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  They  were  especially  distinguished  by  an  ad- 
mirable simplicity,  a great  charity,  and  a rare  honesty  in  all 
their  dealings  with  their  neighbors,  and  an  innocence  of 
manner  worthy  of  the  primitive  Christians.” 


869 


870 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMET,  S.  J. 


Father  De  Smet  follows  this  by  a short  account  of  thf 
tribe  and  country.  “The  two  tribes  of  the  Koetenays  and 
Flatbows,”  he  says,  “number  over  a thousand  souls.  They 
are  principally  divided  into  two  camps,  and  are  known  in 
their  country  under  the  name  of  Skalzi.  One  of  these  camps, 
numbering  about  three  hundred,  inhabits  sometimes  the 
neighborhood  of  the  great  Flathead  Lake,  and  sometimes 
the  great  Tobacco  Plain,  which  is  watered  by  the  Koetenay 
River — the  distance  is  about  seventy  miles. 

“The  Tobacco  Plain  is  a remarkable  spot,  situated  between 
the  forty-ninth  and  fiftieth  degrees  of  north  latitude,  and  is 
the  only  great  plain  possessed  by  this  camp.  It  is  about 
fifty  or  sixty  miles  long,  by  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  in  width. 
It  resembles  a large  basin,  surrounded  by  lofty  mountains, 
which  form  a vast  and  beautiful  amphitheatre,  and  presents 
a picturesque  sight.  The  plain  has  all  the  appearance  of 
the  dry  bed  of  a vast  lake.  Towards  the  south  the  valley 
is  gravelly,  undulating,  and  covered  with  little  hillocks,  and 
patches  here  and  there  are  susceptible  of  cultivation  ; the 
northern  portion,  on  the  contrary,  has  a uniform  surface  and 
a considerable  extent  of  excellent  arable  land. 

“Though  the  land  is  very  elevated,  and  far  towards  the 
north,  the  temperature  is  remarkably  mild,  severe  cold  being 
a rare  occurrence,  and  the  snow  is  seldom  deep ; it  falls  fre- 
quently during  the  season,  but  disappears  almost  as  it  falls, 
absorbed,  perhaps,  by  the  rarefaction  of  the  atmosphere  at 
this  elevation,  or,  perhaps,  driven  off  by  the  southern  breeze, 
which  blows  almost  uninterruptedly  in  the  valley,  and 
drives  the  snow  off  as  it  falls.  Horses  and  horned  cattle 
find  abundant  pasture  during  tfie  whole  year. 

“The  large  river,  called  indifferently  the  Koetenay,  the 
McGilvray,  and  the  Flatbow  River,  flows  through  the  entire 
valley.  It  rises  to  the  northwest  of  this  region,  and  its 
course  is  towards  the  southeast  for  a considerable  distance. 
The  waters  of  this  great  river  are  increased  by  a large 
number  of  brooks  and  beautiful  rivulets,  which  have  their 
source,  for  the  most  part,  in  the  lovely  lakes  or  numerous 
basins  of  these  beautiful  mountains.  Many  of  these  streams 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  S.  J. 


871 


present  to  the  eye  the  most  charming  scenes  in  their  course. 
The  noise  of  their  waters  and  the  sweet  murmur  of  theii 
falls  are  heard  at  some  distance,  and  the  eye  is  charmed  by 
their  descent  from  height  after  height,  and  their  succession 
of  cascades,  from  which  they  escape  to  the  plain,  covered 
with  foam,  and,  as  it  were,  exhausted  by  the  struggles  of 
the  way.  These  mountain  torrents  will  some  day  be  the  sites 
of  mills  of  every  description. 

“ Coal  exists  in  many  portions  of  the  country,  lead  is 
found  in  abundance,  and  I venture  to  say  that  more  precious 
minerals  repose  in  the  bosom  of  the  mountains,  and  will  one 
day  be  brought  to  light  there. 

“ The  Indians  have  devoted  themselves  to  agriculture  for 
some  years  past.  They  cultivate  little  fields  of  maize,  barley, 
oats,  and  potatoes,  all  of  which  ripen.  It  is  rare  that  the 
frost  injures  the  crops  before  the  season  of  harvest.  Their 
small  fields  cannot  be  extended,  owing  to  the  want  of  in- 
struments of  agriculture.  They  are  compelled  to  turn  the 
earth  with  instruments  of  the  most  primitive  construction, 
such  as  Adam  may  have  used  in  his  day.  The  pointed  stick, 
made  of  a very  hard  wood,  is  what  they  have  used  from 
ages  immemorial  to  dig  up  the  camash,  the  bitter-root,  the 
wappatoo  {sagitta  folia),  the  caious,  or  biscuit-root,  and 
other  vegetables  of  the  same  description. 

“ These  Indians  are  very  industrious.  They  are  rarely  un- 
employed. Their  time  is  fully  occupied  in  making  bows 
and  arrows,  lines  or  hooks,  or  in  hunting  and  fishing,  or 
seeking  roots  or  wild  fruits  for  their  numerous  families. 
They  extend  their  hunt  often  to  the  great  plains  of  the 
Blackfeet  and  the  Crows,  to  the  east  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, on  the  upper  waters  of  the  Missouri  and  the  Saska- 
ihawin.  Deprived  as  they  are  of  agTi cultural  implements 
and  fire-arms,  they  are  always  in  want,  and  they  may  be 
iaid  to  keep  a perpetual  Lent. 

“The  missionaries  furnished  them  with  a few  plows 
and  spades.  Last  year  I forwarded  to  them,  by  the 
;jeamer  of  the  Missouri  Fur  Company  at  St.  Louis,  some 
Accessary  agricultural  implements,  such  as  plows,  etc.; 


873 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  8MET,  S.  J. 


but  the  boat  was  burned,  with  all  her  cargo,  above  the  Yel- 
lowstone River 

“ It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  no  more  can  be  done  for 
these  good  Indians,  for,  of  aU  the  mountain  tribes,  they  are 
at  once  the  best-disposed  and  the  most  necessitous.  The 
heau-ideal  of  the  Indian  character,  uncontaminated  by  con- 
tact with  the  whites,  is  found  among  them.  What  is  most 
I)leasmg  to  the  stranger,  is  to  see  their  simplicity,  united 
with  sweetness  and  innocence,  keep  step  with  the  most  per- 
fect dignity  and  modesty  of  deportment.  The  gross  vices 
which  dishonor  the  red  man  on  the  frontiers  are  utterly  un- 
known among  them.  They  are  honest  to  scrupulosity. 

“ The  Hudson’s  Bay  Company,  during  the  forty  years  that 
it  has  been  trading  in  furs  with  them,  has  never  been  able  to 
perceive  that  the  smallest  object  had  been  stolen  from  them. 
The  agent  of  the  company  takes  his  furs  down  to  Colville 
every  spring,  and  does  not  return  before  autumn.  During 
his  absence,  the  store  is  confided  to  the  care  of  an  Indian, 
who  trades  in  the  name  of  the  company,  and  on  the  return 
of  the  agent,  renders  him  a most  exact  account  of  his  trust 
I repeat  here,  what  I stated  in  a preceding  letter,  that  the 
store  often  remains  without  any  one  to  watch  it,  the  door 
unlocked  and  unbolted,  and  the  goods  are  never  stolen. 
The  Indians  go  in  and  out,  help  themselves  to  what  they 
want,  and  always  scrupulouslv  leave  in  place  of  whatever 
article  they  take  its  exact  value. 

“The  following  anecdote  will  serve  to  give  an  idea  of  the 
delicacy  of  conscience  of  these  good  Indians. 

“An  old  chief,  poor  and  blind,  came  from  a great  dis- 
tance, guided  by  his  son,  to  consult  the  priest ; his  only  ob- 
ject being  to  receive  Baptism,  if  he  should  be  considered 
worthy  of  the  privilege.  He  stated  to  the  missionary,  that, 
in  spite  of  his  ardent  desire  to  be  baptized,  he  had  not  dared 
to  approach  the  priest  for  that  purpose,  owing  to  a small 
debt  of  two  beaver  skins  (say  ten  dollars)  which  he  had  con- 
tracted. 

“ ‘My  poverty,’  said  he,  ‘has  always  prevented  me  from 
fulfiling  this  obligation  ; and  until  I had  done  so,  I dared 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DB  SMET,  S.  ]. 


873 


not  gratify  the  dearest  wish  of  my  heart.  At  last  I had  a 
thought.  I begged  my  friends  to  be  charitable  to  me.  I am 
now  in  possession  of  a fine  buffalo-robe ; I wish  to  make 
myself  worthy  of  Baptism.’  The  missionary,  accompanied 
by  the  old  man,  went  to  the  clerk  of  the  company  to  learn 
the  particulars  of  the  debt.  The  clerk  examined  the  books, 
but  said  that  no  such  debt  existed. 

“The  chief  still  insisted  on  paying,  but  the  clerk  refused 
to  take  the  robe.  ‘ Have  pity  on  me,’  at  last  exclaimed  the 
worthy  old  man,  ‘ this  debt  has  rendered  me  wretched  long 
enough ; for  years  it  has  weighed  on  my  conscience.  I wish 
to  belong  to  the  blameless  and  pure  prayer  (religion),  and  to 
make  myself  worthy  of  the  name  of  a child  of  God.  This 
jjuffalo-robe  covers  my  debt,’  and  he  spread  it  on  the  ground 
at  the  feet  of  the  clerk.  He  received  Baptism,  and  returned 
home  contented  and  happy. 

“ A young  Koetenay,  who  had  been  baptized  in  infancy, 
during  my  first  visit  in  1845,  had  emigrated,  with  his  parents, 
to  the  Soushwaps,  in  the  mountainous  regions  near  Fraser 
River.  His  parents  desired  to  marry  him  to  a young 
woman  who  was  as  yet  unbaptized ; he  had  a sister  in  the 
same  condition.  It  was  resolved  that  the  three  should  make 
the  long  Journey  of  many  weeks’  travel,  to  reach  the  mis- 
sion, in  order  that  both  Sacraments  might  be  received. 

“On  their  arrival,  their  ardent  faith,  and  praiseworthy 
earnestness,  were  the  admiration  of  the  whole  village.  The 
fervent  missionary.  Father  Menetry,  instructed  these  zealous 
neophytes,  and  prepared  them  for  holy  Baptism.  The 
young  man,  who  had  not  seen  a priest  since  1845,  had 
prepared  himself  to  approach  the  tribunal  of  penance,  for 
the  first  time,  in  order  to  make  his  first  Communion,  and! 
to  receive  the  nuptial  benediction  with  the  proper  disposi- 
tions. 

“ On  the  day  appointed  for  the  administration  of  all  these 
Sacraments,  the  young  Koetenay  presented  himself,  with  an 
humble  and  modest  air,  at  the  confessional.  He  held  in  his 
hands  some  bundles  of  cedar  chips,  about  the  size  of  ordi- 
nary matches,  and  divided  into  small  bunches  of  different 


674 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMET,  S.  J. 


sizes.  After  kneeling  in  the  confessional,  and  saying  the 
Confiteor^  he  handed  the  little  bundles  to  the  priest.  ‘ These, 
my  father,’  said  he,  ‘are  the  result  of  my  examination  of 
conscience.  This  bundle  is  such  a sin.  Count  the  chips, 
and  you  will  know  how  many  times  I have  committed  it ; 
the  second  bundle  is  such  a sin,’  and  so  he  continued  his 
confession. 

“ His  confession  was  accompanied  with  such  sincere  signs 
of  grief,  that  his  confessor  was  affected  to  tears.  It  is  im- 
possible not  to  be  struck  with  admiration  for  the  simplicity 
of  heart  which  led  our  young  savage,  in  his  desire  to  perform 
this  duty  vrith  the  utmost  exactitude,  to  this  new  method  of 
making  a confession;  but  still  more  admirable  is  the  adorable 
grace  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  thus  sheds  His  gifts  upon 
these.  His  poor  children  of  the  desert,  and,  if  I may  dare  to 
say  so,  adapts  himself  to  their  capacity. 

“In their  zeal  and  fervor,  the  Koetenays  have  built  a litHe 
church  of  round  logs  on  the  great  Tobacco  Prairie.  They 
carried  the  logs, — which  averaged  from  twenty  to  twenty- 
hve  feet  in  length, — in  their  arms  a distance  of  more  than  a 
quarter  of  a mile,  and  raised  the  walls  of  the  new  church,  as 
it  were,  by  main  force.  The  exterior  is  covered  with  straw 
and  sods. 

“ In  this  humble  house  of  the  Lord  they  meet  morning 
and  evening,  to  offer  to  the  Great  Spirit  their  fervent 
prayers, — the  first-fruits  of  the  day.  How  striking  is  the 
contrast  between  this  little  church  of  the  desert,  and  the 
magnificent  temples  of  civilization,  especially  in  Europe. 
The  majesty  of  these  churches,  their  fine  pictures,  the  sculp- 
ture which  adorns  their  walls,  and  their  imposing  propor- 
tions,  inspire  the  beholder  with  admiration  and  awe;  yet,  on 
entering  this  little  cabin  consecrated  to  the  Great  Spirit,  in 
the  desert,  erected  by  poor  Indians, — on  contemplating  the 
profound  recollection,  the  sincere  piety  depicted  on  their 
features,— on  hearing  them  recite  their  prayers,  which  seem 
to  rise  from  the  bottom  of  their  hearts,  it  is  difficult  to  refrain 
from  tears,  and  the  spectator  exclaims  ; ‘ Indeed,  this  poor 
and  humble  church  is  the  abode  of  the  Lord,  and  the  house 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  S.  J. 


87a 


of  prayer  ; its  whole  beauty  lies  in  the  piety,  zeal,  and  fer- 
vor, of  those  who  enter  there  !’ 

“In  this  humble  church  are  now  performed  all  the  relig- 
ious ceremonies  of  Baptism  and  marriage.  The  Indians 
defer  them  until  the  appointed  season  for  the  arrival  of  the 
missionaries  ; they  then  come  in  from  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
try. ‘ How  beautiful  are  the  feet  of  those  who  announce 
the  Gospel  of  peace.’  The  priest  of  this  mission  finds  the 
truth  of  the  words,  Jugwn  meum  suave — my  yoke  is 
sweet.’  No  sooner  has  he  arrived  than  all  crowd  round 
him,  as  beloved  children,  to  greet,  after  a long  absence,  a 
father  whom  they  tenderly  venerate.  Even  the  hands  of 
infants  are  placed  in  those  of  the  missionary  by  their 
mothers. 

“ A long  conference  then  follows.  The  priest  gives  and 
receives  all  news  of  important  events  which  have  happened 
since  the  last  meeting,  and  regulates  with  the  chiefs  the 
exercises  to  be  followed  during  his  present  visit.  He  gives 
two  instructions  a day  to  adults,  and  catechises  the  children; 
he  helps  them  to  examine  well  their  consciences,  and  to 
make  a good  confession ; ho  prepares  them  to  approach 
worthily  the  holy  table,  instructs  the  catechumens  arid  ad- 
mits them  to  Baptism,  together  with  the  children  born  dur- 
ing his  absence  ; he  renews  and  blesses  all  new  marriages ; 
and,  like  a father,  settles  any  difficulties  which  may  have 
arisen.  Some  he  encourages  and  strengthens  in  the  Faith, 
and  remdves  the  doubts  and  soothes  the  inquietudes  of  others. 
In  a word,  he  encourages  all  these  good  neophytes  to  know 
the  Lord,  to  serve  Him  faithfully,  and  love  Him  with  al 
their  hearts. 

“If  the  days  of  the  missionary  are  thus  filled  with  labor 
and  fatigue,  he  has  his  full  recompense  of  merit  and  conso- 
lation. He  counts  them  among  the  happiest  days  of  his  life. 
The  Rev.  Father  Menetry,  their  missionary,  during  his  visit 
in  1858,  baptized  fifty  children  and  thirty  adults,  blessed 
forty  marriages,  and  heard  over  five  hundre(J  confessions. 

“ The  great  chief  of  the  Koetenays,  named  Michael,  recalls 
in  the  midst  of  his  tribe  the  life  and  virtues  of  the  ancient 


876 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  BE  SMET,  B.J. 


patriarclis.  His  life  is  that  of  a good  and  tender  father, 
surrounded  by  a numerous  family  of  docile  and  affectionate 
children.  Hio  camp  numbers  four  hundred  souls.  They 
are  all  baptized,  and  they  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  their 
worthy  chief.  It  is  truly  a delightful  spectacle  to  find,  in 
the  bosom  of  these  isolated  mountains  of  the  Columbia 
River,  a tribe  of  poor  Indians  living  in  the  greatest  purity 
of  manners^  and  leading  a life  of  evangelic  simplicity.  They 
are  almost  deprived  of  the  succors  of  religion,  and  receive 
the  visit  of  a priest  but  once  or  twice  in  the  course  of  a 
year.” 

In  1871  Father  De  Smet  sailed  for  Europe.  While  on  the 
voyage,  he  met  with  an  unhappy  accident  that  was  serious 
in  its  consequences.  On  one  occasion,  a few  days  before 
reaching  the  shores  of  the  Old  World,  as  he  was  descending 
the  stairway  to  the  cabin,  a huge  wave  struck  the  vessel,  and 
the  shock  was  such  that  the  hardy  and  venerable  missionary 
was  thrown  to  the  deck  below,  thus  breaking  one  of  his  ribs. 

Shortly  after  arriving  in  his  native  Belgium,  an  attack  of 
kidney  disease  added  to  the  injuries  from  which  he  was  al- 
ready suffering;  and,  at  one  time,  his  friends  even  de- 
spaired of  his  recovery.  But  he  grew  better.  He  was 
made  a Knight  of  the  Order  of  Leopold,  an  honor  v/hich 
few  attain,  and  one  which  he  held  in  common  with  Marshal 
MacMahon,  now  the  ex-President  of  France. 

Father  De  Smet  returned  to  the  United  States,  reaching 
St.  Louis  on  April  25th,  1872.  But  years  of  Exposure, 
together  with  recent  injuries,  had  shattered  his  iron  consti- 
tution, and  he  never  regained  his  general  good  health.  It 
was  felt  that  the  days  of  the  great  Jesuit  were  numbered, 
when,  the  physicians  decided  that  he  was  afflicted  with 
Bright’s  disease  of  the  kidney.  After  much  suffering,  he 
calmly  breathed  his  soul  to  God,  surrounded  by  his  brother 
J esuits,  in  his  seventy-second  year,  on  the  morning  of  the 
23d  of  May,  lg73. ' He  died  in  his  own  room  at  the  St. 


‘ For  the  details  given  in  relation  to  the  last  days  of  Father  He  Smet.  we  are  indebted  to  th* 
•Istincnished  Father  Walter  H.  Hill,  S.  J.,  of  St.  Louis  tTniversity . who  kindly  furnished  us  witJf 
»otes  written  from  his  own  personal  remembrance. 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  DE  SMET,  S.  J. 


877 


Louis  University,'  where  he  had  often  been  visited  in  his 
last  illness  by  his  countless  friends  of  all  religious  creeds 
and  ranks  of  society.  His  honored  remains  were  borne  to 
Florissant,  and  there,  where  he  first  began  his  religious  ca- 
reer in  Missouri,  rests  all  that  is  earthly  of  the  saintly  and 
heroic  Father  Peter  John  De  Smet.’ 

Whether  in  health  or  sickness,  this  illustrious  man  was 
as  simple  as  a child  in  his  manners.  To  the  last  he  was 
cheerful  in  his  conversations,  and  was  ever  ready  to  answer 
questions  relating  to  his  travels,  missions,  and  adventures 
among  the  Indians.  His  narratives  were  recounted  in  such 
clear,  simple  language,  and  were  so  graphic,  graceful,  and 
full  of  striking  incidents,  that  even  children,  no  less  than 
older  persons,  were  charmed  with  his  conversation. 

“I  never  knew  any  one,”  writes  Rev.  Walter  H.  Hill,  S.J., 
“who  could  relate  an  anecdote,  or  a little  trait,  in  so  pleasing 
a style  as  Father  De  Smet.  There  was  a peculiar  charm  in  his 
words,  and  even  in  his  voice  and  countenance,  when  telling 
those  little  narratives,  sometimes  humorous,  oftentimes  edi- 
fying, and  always  interesting.” 

The  great  missionary  loved  the  company  of  children.  He 
would  sometimes  spend  an  hour  or  more,  telling  them 
stories  about  his  travels  among  the  Indian  tribes  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains ; and  often,  when  walking  the  streets  of 
St.  Louis,  groups  of  little  ones  would  crowd  around  him, 
begging  him  to  appoint  a time  and  place  for  them  to  hear 


• His  room,  which  was  small,  contained  a Tew  extra  chairs  for  visitors;  in  it  there  were  writing 
desks,  tables,  presses,  aU  of  which  were  weU  filled  with  various  books,  pamphlets,  papers,  and 

•W'uments,  bearing  on  Indian  history  and  Indian  interests.— W.  H.  HUl,  S.J. 

• Ha  was  buried  on  a iitoe  moana  at  St.  Stanislaus  Novitiate,  which  is  near  Florissant,  sixteen 
miles  northwest  of  8t.  Louis.  This  spot  is  about  one  mile  from  the  Missouri  River,  up  whicfc 
Father  De  Smet  had  so  often  journeyed  three  thousand  miles  to  its  first  fountains  that  gush  from 
the  highest  ridge  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  His  remains  rest  near  those  of  Father  Meurin,  who 
died  at  Prairie  Du  Rocher,  Illinois,  Feb.  23d,  1777;  those  of  his  companions  from  Europe  in  1821, 
John  A.  Elet,  J.  B.  Smedts,  P.  J.  Verha>gen,  J.  Judocus,  Van  Assche,  and  those  of  Rev.  Charles 
Van  Quickenhome,  who  led  those  young  missionaries  from  White  Marsh,  Marj-land,  to  Missouri 
n 1823. 

A.  plain  freestone  slab,  four  feet  by  eighteen  inches,  marks  the  last  resting  place  of  Father  De 
«met;  and  it  has  on  it  this  brief  inscription:  •' Natvs  18  Feb.,  1801,-  Ingresms  19  N<yv.,  1837;  obiU 
■?8  .yai,  1873.  He  first  entered  the  Society  of  Jesus  in  1821,  but  subsequently  returned  to  his 
lativelandon  account  of  ill  health;  re-entered  the  Jesuit  Mission  of  Missouri  in  1837. — Rev- 
Walter  H.  HW,  S.  J 


878 


FATHER  PETER  JOHN  HE  SMET,  S.  J. 


him  reo-ting  what  he  saw  when  journeying  among  the  red 
men  in  the  wilderness  of  the  far  West. 

Such  ij  but  a glimpse  at  the  marly  figure,  kind  ways,  and 
lofty,  beautiful  career  of  Father  de  Smet.  Most  of  the 
Indian  mis.:^ions  of  this  century  would  have  been  nearly  im- 
possible wei3  it  not  for  his  grand  zeal,  great  jirudence,  and 
hardy  energy  Boldly  penetrating  the  unknown  solitudes 
M the  West,  he  conquered  the-  almost  insurmountable 
obstacles  that  beset  him  at  every  step.  With  undaunted 
heart  he  faced  hov^tiie  and  savage  tribes  whose  language  and 
rery  name  were  a mystery  to  the  civilized  earth.  He  came, 
fte  saw,  he  conquered ; but  not  like  the  pagan  Csesar.  He 
o^jened  Heaven  to  the  vanquished.  He  converted,  bap- 
tized, and  Christianized  the  wild  clans  of  the  West;  and 
his  holy  and  tireless  apostolate  was  continued,  year  after 
year,  almost  to  the  very  dsiy  of  his  departure  from  this 
world.' 

• 

' The  memorial  etatue  to  Father  de  Smet  wae  unveiled  at  his  birth-place  on  the  24th  of  Septem- 
ber, 1878.  It  was  a most  impressive  scene.  Many  distinguished  men  were  present.  A cantata, 
gomposed  for  the  occasion,  was  sung  by  fifty  voices;  and  a noble  eulogy  of  the  great  missionary 
^a«  aeiivered.  The  statue,  it  is  said,  is  a magnificent  work  of  art. 


A.  M.  D.  Q. 


Ireland : Past  and  Present. 


This  latest,  most  complete  and  exhaustive  compendium  of  ) 
Irish  history  is  the  last  contribution  towards  the  literatnre  of 
his  race  and  country  by  the  late  lamented  Major  David  Power 
Conyngham,  LL.D. 

Of  a patriotic  stock  and  allied  by  blood  to  some  of  Ireland’s 
noblest  sons,  including  among  them  the  gentle  Poet  of  the  Anner, 
Charles  J.  Kickham,  the  gifted  author  of  “ Ireland  : Past  and 
Present”  spent  the  best  and  most  mature  years  of  his  life  in  the 
grand  task  of  disseminating  valuable  reading  matter  for  those  of  his 
kith  and  kin  who  live  in  this  favored  land — the  Greater  Ireland 
beyond  the  Seas. 

Few  there  are  in  this  busy  age  who  have  time  to  study  out  a 
detailed  history  of  any  country  ; but  the  scholar,  the  student,  or  the 
average  reader  will  in  this  work  find  all  that  is  necessary  to  enable 
the  mind  to  draw  a vivid,  and  correct  picture  of  Ireland’s  fate  and 
fortunes  from  the  earliest  period  to  the  present  day. 

An  accurate  statement  of  the  Land  Question,  with  full  details  of 
the  development  of  the  mighty  movement  led  on  by  Parnell,  the 
Avondale  chieftain,  and  Davitt,  the  Landless  Peasant  of  Mayo,  is 
given  in  this  elaborate  book,  which,  as  an  accurate  authority  on  all 
subjects  connected  with  the  matter  of  which  it  treats,  cannot  be 
surpassed,  and  has  not  been  equalled  by  any  author  up  to  the  present 
time. 

In  addition  to  the  splendid  pages  of  Major  Conyngham  there  is 
contained  in  this  volume  a rare  delineation  of  the  “ Penal  Laws,” 
from  the  pen  of  one  of  Parnell’s  most  gifted,  patriotic,  and  liberal 
ancestors  ; Mr.  J.  C.  Curtin  continues  the  history  from  the  death  of 
Major  Conyngham  down  to  the  present  day,  and  this  noble  work  also' 
contains  “Talks  about  Ireland,”  by  James  Redpath,  whose  name  and 
fame  are  written  on  Irish  hearts,  wliether  they  beat  by  the  Atlantic- 
swept  cliffs  of  Connemara,  or  by  tlie  golden  slopes  towards  the  setting 
sun  that  are  laved  by  the  placid  waters  of  the  far-spreading  Pacific. 


Profusely  illustrated  with  portraits  of  Ireland’s  bravest,  pur- 
est, and  most  devoted  children,  aud  with  life-like  sketches,  taken 
by  the  best  artists,  of  those  charming  historical  spots  which  mark 
Ireland  no  less  the  Land  of  Beauty  than  the  Shrine  of  Eomance ; 
“ Ireland  : Past  and  Present  ” offers  a fine  addition  to  the 
Kbrary,  and  is  in  all  respects  calculated  to  interest  aud  instruct. 

Old  and  young  should  have  it,  and  in  this  Shelter-land  of  their 
race  every  Iri.sh  man  and  woman  should  read  it.  In  its  pages  the 
elders  of  the  family  will  live  again  by  the  Shannon,  the  Blackwater, 
the  Liffey,  or  the  Lee,  and  from  it  the  young  will  learn  to  admire, 
appreciate,  and  imitate  the  grand  examples  of  fidelity  to  God  aud 
Country  which  arc  the  proudest  possessions  of  the  Irish  people 


12691 


BOSTON  COLLEGE 


903 


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DOES  NOT  CIRCULATE 


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